“And let me tell you, Sir Thomas,” continued that excellent and indomitable woman, “that because no woman could ever be induced to elope with you, there is no reason why runaway marriages should not be the happiest in the world. I defied my family and as good as ran away with Sir Peter Hawkshaw, and he was as poor as Giles Vernon; but, like him, he was a true and gallant gentleman, and God bless the day I married him!”
At this there was tremendous cheering for Sir Peter, and he took off his hat and bowed, kissing Lady Hawkshaw’s hand.
Sir Thomas responded by calling out airily,—
“May I ask your ladyship if Sir Peter was a free agent in the affair of your marriage? for I believe he is not generally held accountable for his actions since that day.”
Sir Peter’s eyes flashed at that, but Lady Hawkshaw cried back,—
“Right you are, Sir Thomas, for have him I would, and if he had not agreed to marry me I should have died of disappointment. Nor has he been a free agent since that day,—not for one moment free from my love, my admiration, and my solicitude. I knew you well, Sir Thomas, forty years ago” (this was a cruel thrust, for Sir Thomas was notoriously touchy about his age), “and I would no more have run away with you then than I would this night—and God knows no woman in all the three kingdoms would go with you now!”
The delight of the crowd was extraordinary. I believe they would have mobbed Sir Thomas, except that they felt that Lady Hawkshaw could inflict the more exquisite misery on him. The judges, still going up the steps slowly, probably heard every word of this controversy. The crowd then parted, and taking Sir Thomas’ horses by the bits, forced them to give place to Lady Hawkshaw’s coach, and she descended amid the loudest cheers of the populace.
Within the splendid ball-room Lady Hawkshaw’s triumph was even more marked. Numbers of great people flocked around her; many of them had been witnesses of her battle royal with Sir Thomas, and the story had quickly spread to the rest. Lady Hawkshaw, in spite of her oddities, had always maintained the respect of all who knew her, and never saw I a woman who bore, under all circumstances, more unmistakably the air of a great lady; whether squabbling with Sir Peter, laying down the law to the world at large, or speaking bad French, she was invariably the woman of quality.
The scene of the ball was so gorgeous that even my sad heart took note of it. The hall was ablaze with wax lights, and a huge band of musicians brayed and trumpeted. The lords justices, the lords lieutenants of the three Ridings, and many other persons were in full court costumes, and the ladies’ trains of brocade and velvet were a sight to see. And I may be pardoned for saying that Mistress Richard Glyn was by no means the least handsome of the women present.
By Lady Hawkshaw’s command we were all to look cheerful, and, when I saw the outpouring of popular approval upon us as Giles Vernon’s next friends, my heart grew less heavy.