“Ripping!” said his lordship.
“His lordship will of course wish a best man,” suggested Belknap-Jackson. “I should be only too glad——”
“You’re going to suggest Ruggles again!” cried the lady. “Just the man for it! You’re quite right. Why, we owe it all to Ruggles, don’t we?”
She here beamed upon his lordship. Belknap-Jackson wore an expression of the keenest disrelish.
“Of course, course!” replied his lordship. “Dashed good man, Ruggles! Owe it all to him, what, what!”
I fancy in the cordial excitement of the moment he was quite sincere. As to her ladyship, I am to this day unable to still a faint suspicion that she was having me on. True, she owed it all to me. But I hadn’t a bit meant it and well she knew it. Subtle she was, I dare say, but bore me no malice, though she was not above setting Belknap-Jackson back a pace or two each time he moved up.
A final toast was drunk and my guests drifted out. Belknap-Jackson again glared savagely at me as he went, but Mrs. Effie rather outglared him. Even I should hardly have cared to face her at that moment.
And I was still in a high state of muddle. It was all beyond me. Had his lordship, I wondered, too seriously taken my careless words about American equality? Of course I had meant them to apply only to those stopping on in the States.
Cousin Egbert lingered to the last, rather with a troubled air of wishing to consult me. When I at length came up with him he held the journal before me, indicating lines in the article—“relict of an Alaskan capitalist, now for some years one of Red Gap’s social favourites.”
“Read that there,” he commanded grimly. Then with a terrific earnestness I had never before remarked in him: “Say, listen here! I better go round right off and mix it up with that fresh guy. What’s he hinting around at by that there word ‘relict’? Why, say, she was married to him——”