“Phil-ipp, there is only one cloud so far.”
“What is it, old girl?”
“I want to ride, Phil-ipp, and I don’t know how. I think I shall learn. Come with me and order a habit, although at a really economical shop, because I’m not earning no money and I’ve broken all my contracts and this is going to be a dreadful Expense.”
Philip was delighted and praised her pluck; but, in strict confidence, young ladies of Newnham and Girton, she didn’t exactly overflow with that valuable commodity when she made her début a week later at the school. Her second and third appearances were hardly more inspiring; indeed, she had never felt so uncomfortable, so nervous, so hopelessly incompetent in the whole course of a life which had been a brilliant success so far. But she stuck to her resolve with the whole-hearted determination that goes with her type of countenance; and ere long virtue began to reap its reward.
It was a very proud moment when, after several weeks of travail, she ventured forth into the Row with her Philip, about a quarter-past eight of a summer’s morning. Philip felt awfully proud of her, for, making due allowance for a little inward trepidation which was uncommonly well concealed, she really did very well indeed. She vowed, moreover, though in no spirit of vainglory, that she meant soon to do much better.
Friends of the Family had shaken their heads, and were shaking them still, over the Unfortunate Occurrence, but at present the glamour had shown no signs of wearing thin. Mary had definitely retired from the theater, except for the promised appearance at Harry Merino’s benefit, which had yet to take place, but in the most whole-hearted way she was devoting herself to Philip and his interests. It was her ambition “to be a pal in everything.” The sitting of a horse was only one instance of her determination to live up to her ideal.
An Ex-Ambassador had asked her to call in Mount Street. No time was lost in taking him at his word. Moreover, she chose a day and hour when the old diplomatist was accessible. And her recent study of the art of equitation came in uncommonly useful, inasmuch that without much difficulty she contrived “to keep him up to the bit.” That is to say, about ten days after her visit Philip received an invitation to lunch at the Helicon, to meet a chief wire-puller of the party to which the Ex-Ambassador did not belong. It is not every young married woman of limited social experience who would have been able to manage it.
To be quite candid, Sir Joseph Huffham, Bart., M. P., was not exactly overpowered by the sense of Mr. Philip’s ability. To that shrewd and stern judge of mankind, the son and heir of that old fool Shelmerdine was very much what one would have expected him to be. Except that he was not pompous. On the contrary, there was a most agreeable modesty about the young chap. It was evidently sincere, and as such was entitled to respect. As far as promise was concerned, though there was doubtless a good deal of it—a worldly-wise man had said so—whatever he might attain to in the way of performance would be in the distant future.
What had Warlock in his mind? was really the question of questions for Sir Joseph Huffham, Bart., M. P. What Machiavellian subtlety lurked in the bringing forward of this very dark horse for the purpose of helping a party in which Warlock was not interested? What private axe had he to grind? To be sure, there was that little business of the vacant Thistle, which all the world and his wife had smiled over. Then there was also the fact that this not particularly bright young man had disappointed the expectations of two families. What game was the old Jesuit playing? was the question that Sir Joseph felt constrained to ask.
Sir Joseph found the question by no means easy to answer, and we must confess that we share his difficulty. It would be idle, my lords and gentlemen, for us to pretend to illuminate the official prescience. But candidly, we feel that the question might have been addressed to young Mrs. Philip without impropriety, although, of course, Sir Joseph could not be expected to know that, and he would have thought it ridiculous had anyone ventured to make the suggestion. Things don’t happen in that way, he would have said.