Edith Wharton - Novel 21

by The Buccaneers (v2. 1)

  As he approached he thought what a pretty scene it was: the young women in their light starched dresses and spreading hats, the young men in flannel boating suits, stretched at their feet on the turf, and the afternoon sunlight filtering through the dark boughs in dapplings of gold.

  Mabel Elmsworth walked beside him in silence, clearly aware that her appeal had failed; but suddenly she exclaimed: “There’s a lady driving in that I’ve never seen before… She’s stopping the carriage to get out and join Conchita. I suppose it’s a friend of hers, don’t you?”

  Calls from ladies, Mr. Robinson had already noticed, were rare and unexpected at the cottage. If a guardsman had leapt from the station fly Mabel, whether she knew him or not, would have remained unperturbed; but the sight of an unknown young woman of elegant appearance filled her with excitement and curiosity. “Let’s go and see,” she exclaimed.

  The visitor, who was dark-haired, with an audaciously rouged complexion, and the kind of nose which the Laureate had taught his readers to describe as tip-tilted, was personally unknown to Mr. Robinson also; but thanks to the Bond Street photographers and the new society journals her features were as familiar to him as her reputation.

  “Why, it’s Lady Churt—it’s your landlady!” he exclaimed, with a quick glance of enquiry at his companion. The tie between Seadown and Lady Churt had long been notorious in their little world, and Robinson instantly surmised that the appearance of the lady might have a far from favourable bearing on what Mabel Elmsworth had just been telling him. But Mabel hurried forward without responding to his remark, and they joined the party just as Lady Churt was exchanging a cordial hand-clasp with Lady Richard Marable.

  “Darling!”

  “Darling Idina, what a surprise!”

  “Conchita, dearest—I’d no idea I should find you here! Won’t you explain me, please, to these young ladies—my tenants, I suppose?” Lady Churt swept the group with her cool amused glance, which paused curiously, and as Robinson thought somewhat anxiously, on Virginia St George’s radiant face.

  “She looks older than in her photographs—and hunted, somehow,” Robinson reflected, his own gaze resting on Lady Churt.

  “I’m Lady Churt—your landlady, you know,” the speaker continued affably, addressing herself to Virginia and Lizzy. “Please don’t let me interrupt this delightful party. Mayn’t I join it instead? What a brilliant idea to have tea out here in hot weather! I always used to have it on the terrace. But you Americans are so clever at arranging things.” She looked about her, mustering the group with her fixed metallic smile. With the exception of Hector Robinson the young men were evidently all known to her, and she found an easy word of greeting for each. Lord Seadown was the last that she named.

  “Ah, Seadown—so you’re here too? Now I see why you forgot that you were lunching with me in town today. I must say you chose the better part!” She dropped into the deep basket-chair which Santos-Dios had pushed forward, and held out her hand for a proffered mint-julep. “No tea, thanks—not when one of Teddy’s demoralizing mixtures is available… You see, I know what to expect when I come here… A cigarette, Seadown? I hope you’ve got my special supply with you, even if you’ve forgotten our engagement?” She smiled again upon the girls. “He spoils me horribly, you know, by always remembering to carry about my particular brand.”

  Seadown, with flushed face and lowering brow, produced the packet, and Lady Churt slipped the contents into her cigarette-case. “I do hope I’m not interrupting some delightful plan or other? Perhaps you were all going out on the river? If you were, you mustn’t let me delay you, for I must be off again in a few minutes.”

  Every one protested that it was much too hot to move, and Lady Churt continued: “Really—you had no plans? Well, it is pleasanter here than anywhere else. But perhaps I’m dreadfully in the way. Seadown’s looking at me as if I were…” She turned her glance laughingly toward Virginia St George. “The fact is, I’m not at all sure that landladies have a right to intrude on their tenants unannounced. I daresay it’s really against the law.”

  “Well, if it is, you must pay the penalty by being detained at our pleasure,” said Lady Richard gaily; and after a moment’s pause Lizzy Elmsworth came forward. “Won’t you let me call my mother and Mrs. St George, Lady Churt? I’m sure they’d be sorry not to see you.

  It was so hot after luncheon that they went up to their rooms to rest.”

  “How very wise of them! I wouldn’t disturb them for the world.” Lady Churt set down her empty glass, and bent over the lighting of a cigarette. “Only you really mustn’t let me interfere for a moment with what you were all going to do. You see,” she added, turning about with a smile of challenge, “you see, though my tenants haven’t yet done me the honour of inviting me down, I’ve heard what amusing things are always going on here, and what wonderful ways you’ve found of cheering up the poor martyrs to duty who can’t get away to the grouse and the deer—and I may as well confess that I’m dreadfully keen to learn your secrets.”

  Robinson saw that this challenge had a slightly startling effect on the three girls, who stood grouped together with an air of mutual defensiveness unlike their usual easy attitude. But Lady Richard met the words promptly. “If your tenants haven’t invited you down, Idina dear, I fancy it’s only because they were afraid to have you see how rudimentary their arts are compared to their landlady’s. So many delightful people had already learnt the way to the cottage that there was nothing to do but to leave the door unlatched. Isn’t that your only secret, girls? If there’s any other—” she too glanced about her with a smile—”well, perhaps it’s this; but this, remember, is a secret, even from the stern Mammas who are taking their siesta upstairs.”

  As she spoke she turned to her brother. “Come, Teddy—if everybody’s had tea, what about lifting the tray and things on to the grass, and putting this table to its real use?” Two of the young men sprang to her aid, and in a moment tray and tea-cloth had been swept away, and the green baize top of the folding table had declared its original purpose.

  “Cards? Oh, how jolly!” cried Lady Churt. She drew a seat up to the table, while Teddy de Santos-Dios, who had disappeared into the house, hurried back with a handful of packs. “But this is glorious! No wonder my poor little cottage has become so popular. What—poker? Oh, by all means. The only game worth playing—I took my first lesson from Seadown last week… Seadown, I had a little porte-monnaie somewhere, didn’t I? Or did I leave it in the fly? Not that I’ve much hope of finding anything in it but some powder and a few pawntickets… Oh, Seadown, will you come to my rescue? Lend me a fiver, there’s a darling—I hope I’m not going to lose more than that.”

  Lord Seadown who, since her arrival, had maintained a look of gloomy detachment, drew forth his note-case with an embarrassed air. She received it with a laugh. “What? Carte blanche? What munificence! But let me see—.” She took up the note-case, ran her fingers through it, and drew out two or three five-pound notes. “Heavens, Seadown, what wealth! How am I ever to pay you back if I lose? Or even if I win, when I need so desperately every penny I can scrape together?” she slipped the notes into her purse, which the observant Hector Robinson, alert for the chance of making himself known to the newcomer, had hastened to retrieve from the fly. Lady Churt took the purse with a brief nod for the service rendered, and a long and attentive look at the personable Hector; then she handed back Lord Seadown’s note-case. “Wish me luck, my dear! Perhaps I may manage to fleece one or two of these hardened gamblers.”

  The card-players, laughing, settled themselves about the table. Lady Churt and Lady Richard sat on opposite sides, Lord Seadown took a seat next to his sister-in-law, and the other men disposed themselves as they pleased. Robinson, who did not care to play, had casually placed himself behind Lady Churt, and the three girls, resisting a little banter and entreaty, declared that they also preferred to walk about and look on at the players.

  The game began in earnest, and Lady Ch
urt opened with the supernaturally brilliant hand which often falls to the lot of the novice. The stakes (the observant Robinson noticed) were higher than usual, the players consequently more intent. It was one of those afternoons when thunder invisibly amasses itself behind the blue, and as the sun drooped slowly westward it seemed as though the card-table under the cedar-boughs were overhung by the same feverish hush as the sultry lawns and airless river.

  Lady Churt’s luck did not hold. Too quickly elated, she dashed ahead toward disaster. Robinson was not long in discovering that she was too emotional for a game based on dissimulation, and no match for such seasoned players as Lady Richard and Lady Richard’s brother. Even the other young men had more experience, or at any rate more self-control, than she could muster; and though her purse had evidently been better supplied than she pretended, the time at length came when it was nearly empty.

  But at that very moment her luck turned again. Robinson could not believe his eyes. The hand she held could hardly be surpassed; she understood enough of the game to seize her opportunity, and fling her last notes into the jack-pot presided over by Teddy de Santos-Dios’s glossy smile and supple gestures. There was more money in the jack-pot than Robinson had ever seen on the Runnymede card-table, and a certain breathlessness overhung the scene, as if the weight of the thundery sky were in the lungs of the players.

  Lady Churt threw down her hand, and leaned back with a sparkle of triumph in eyes and lips. But Miles Dawnly, with an almost apologetic gesture, had spread his cards upon the table.

  “Begorra! A royal flush—” a young Irish lieutenant gasped out. The groups about the table stared at each other. It was one of those moments which make even seasoned poker-players gasp. For a short interval of perplexity Lady Churt was silent; then the exclamations of the other players brought home to her the shock of her disaster.

  “It’s the sort of game that fellows write about in their memoirs,” murmured Teddy, almost awestruck; and the lucky winner gave an embarrassed laugh. It was almost incredible to him too.

  Lady Churt pushed back her chair, nearly colliding with the attentive Robinson. She tried to laugh. “Well, I’ve learnt my lesson! Lost Seadown’s last copper, as well as my own. Not that he need mind; he’s won more than he lent me. But I’m completely ruined—down and out, as I believe you say in the States. I’m afraid you’re all too clever for me, and one of the young ladies had better take my place,” she added with a drawn smile.

  “Oh, come, Idina, don’t lose heart!” exclaimed Lady Richard, deep in the game, and annoyed at the interruption.

  “Heart, my dear? I assure you I’ve never minded parting with that organ. It’s losing the shillings and pence that I can’t afford.”

  Miles Dawnly glanced across the table at Lizzy Elmsworth, who stood beside Hector Robinson, her keen eyes bent on the game. “Come, Miss Elmsworth, if Lady Churt is really deserting us, won’t you replace her?”

  “Do, Lizzy,” cried Lady Richard; but Lizzy shook her head, declaring that she and her friends were completely ignorant of the game.

  “What, even Virginia?” Conchita laughed. “There’s no excuse for her, at any rate, for her father is a celebrated poker-player. My respected parent always says he’d rather make Colonel St George a handsome present than sit down at poker with him.”

  Virginia coloured at the challenge, but Lizzy, always quicker at the uptake, intervened before she could answer.

  “You seem to have forgotten, Conchita, that girls don’t play cards for money in America.”

  Lady Churt turned suddenly toward Virginia St George, who was standing behind her. “No. I understand the game you young ladies play has fewer risks, and requires only two players,” she said, fixing her vivid eyes on the girl’s bewildered face. Robinson, who had drawn back a few steps, was still watching her intently. He said to himself that he had never seen a woman so angry, and that certain small viperine heads darting forked tongues behind their glass cases at the Zoo would in future always remind him of Lady Churt.

  For a moment Virginia’s bewilderment was shared by the others about the table; but Conchita, startled out of her absorption in the game, hastily assumed the air of one who is vainly struggling to repress a burst of ill-timed mirth. “How frightfully funny you are, Idina! I do wish you wouldn’t make me laugh so terribly in this hot weather!”

  Lady Churt’s colour rose angrily. “I’m glad it amuses you to see your friends lose their money,” she said. “But unluckily I can’t afford to make the fun last much longer.”

  “Oh, nonsense, darling! Of course your luck will turn. It’s been miraculous already. Lend her something to go on with, Seadown, do…”

  “I’m afraid Seadown can’t go on either. I’m sorry to be a spoil-sport, but I must really carry him off. As he forgot to lunch with me today it’s only fair that he should come back to town for dinner.”

  Lord Seadown, who had relapsed into an unhappy silence, did not break it in response to this; but Lady Richard once more came to his rescue. “We love your chaff, Idina; and we hope the idea of carrying off Seadown is only a part of it. You say he was engaged to lunch with you today; but isn’t there a mistake about dates? Seedy, in his family character as my brother-in-law, brought me down here for the week-end, and I’m afraid he’s got to wait and see me home on Monday. You wouldn’t suppose my husband would mind my travelling alone, would you, considering how much he does it himself—or professes to; but as a matter of fact he and my father-in-law, who disagree on so many subjects, are quite agreed that I’m not to have any adventures if they can help it. And so you see… But sit down again, darling, do. Why should you hurry away? If you’ll only stop and dine you’ll have an army of heroes to see you back to town; and Seadown’s society at dinner.”

  The effect of this was to make Lady Churt whiten with anger under her paint. She glanced sharply from Lady Richard to Lord Seadown.

  “Yes; do, Idina,” the latter at length found voice to say.

  Lady Churt threw back her brilliant head with another laugh. “Thanks a lot for your invitation, Conchita darling—and for yours too, Seadown. It’s really rather amusing to be asked to dine in one’s own house… But today I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got to carry you back to London with me, Seadown, whoever may have brought you here. The fact is—” she turned another of her challenging glances on Virginia St George—“the fact is, it’s time your hostesses found out that you don’t go with the house; at least not when I’m not living in it. That ought to have been explained to them, perhaps—”

  “Idina…” Lord Seadown muttered in anguish.

  “Oh, I’m not blaming anybody! It’s such a natural mistake. Lord Seadown comes down so continually when I’m here,” Lady Churt pursued, her eyes still on Virginia’s burning face, “that I suppose he simply forgot the house was let, and went on coming from the mere force of habit. I do hope, Miss St George, his being here hasn’t inconvenienced you? Come along, Seadown, or we’ll miss our train; and please excuse yourself to these young ladies, who may think your visits were made on their account—mayn’t they?”

  A startled silence followed. Even Conchita’s ready tongue seemed to fail her. She cast a look of interrogation at her brother-in-law, but his gaze remained obstinately on the ground, and the other young men had discreetly drawn back from the scene of action.

  Virginia St George stood a little way from her friends. Her head was high, her cheeks burning, her blue eyes dark with indignation. Mr. Robinson, intently following the scene, wondered whether it were possible for a young creature to look more proud and beautiful. But in another moment he found himself reversing his judgment; for Mr. Robinson was all for action, and suddenly, swiftly, the other beauty, Virginia’s friend and rival, had flung herself into the fray.

  “Virginia! What are you waiting for? Don’t you see that Lord Seadown has no right to speak till you do? Why don’t you tell him at once that he has your permission to announce your engagement?” Lizzy Elmsworth cried with a
ngry fervour.

  Mr. Robinson hung upon this dialogue with the breathless absorption of an experienced play-goer discovering the gifts of an unknown actress. “By Jove—by Jove,” he murmured to himself. His talk with Mabel Elmsworth had made clear to him the rivalry he had already suspected between the two beauties, and he could measure the full significance of Lizzy’s action.

  “By Jove—she knew she hadn’t much of a chance with Seadown, and quick as lightning she decided to back up the other girl against the common enemy.” His own admiration, which, like Seadown’s, had hitherto wavered between the two beauties, was transferred in a flash, and once for all, to Lizzy. “Gad, she looks like an avenging goddess—I can almost hear the arrow whizzing past! What a party-leader she’d make,” he thought; and added, with inward satisfaction: “Well, she won’t be thrown away on this poor nonentity, at all events.”

  Virginia St George still stood uncertain, her blue entreating eyes turned with a sort of terror on Lady Churt.

  “Seadown!” the latter repeated with an angry smile.

  The sound of his name seemed to rouse the tardy suitor. He lifted his head, and his gaze met Virginia’s, and detected her tears. He flushed to his pale eyebrows.

  “This is all a mistake, a complete mistake… I mean,” he stammered, turning to Virginia, “it’s just a joke of Lady Churt’s—who’s such an old friend of mine that I know she’ll want to be the first to congratulate me… if you’ll only tell her that she may.”

  He went up to Virginia, and took possession of her trembling hand. Virginia left it in his; but with her other hand she drew Lizzy Elmsworth to her.

  “Oh, Lizzy,” she faltered.

  Lizzy bestowed on her a kiss of congratulation, and drew back with a little laugh. Mr. Robinson, from his secret observatory, guessed exactly what was passing through her mind. “She’s begun to realize that she’s thrown away her last hope of Seadown; and very likely she repents her rashness. But the defence of the clan before everything; and I daresay he wasn’t the only string to her bow.”