With this he made a profound salutation to Lady Brabazon, who looked petrified with astonishment, and kissed his hand to Trussell, who was ready to die with laughing. As to the beau, he grasped his cane in a manner that plainly betokened his intention of laying it across his valet’s shoulders. But the latter, divining his intention, and seeing that nothing but a bold manouvre could now save him, strutted up to him, and said in a loud voice— “Ah! my dear fellow — how d’ye do — glad to see you — plenty of company,” — adding, in a lower tone— “For heaven’s sake, sir, don’t mar my fortune. I’m about to be married to that lady, sir — large fortune, sir — to-day will decide it— ‘pon rep!”
Mr. Villiers regarded him in astonishment, mixed with some little admiration; and at length his good nature got the better of his anger.
“Well, get you gone instantly,” he said;— “if I find you in the garden in ten minutes from this time, you shall have the caning you merit.”
“Good day, sir,” replied Mr. Cripps— “I’ll not forget the favor.” And with a profound bow, he moved off with the widow.
“And so, you have let him off,” cried Lady Brabazon, in amazement.
“Upon my soul, I couldn’t help it,” replied the beau. “I’ve a fellow feeling for the rascal — and, egad! all things considered, he has played his part so uncommonly well that I hope he may be successful.”
* * *
CHAPTER III.
A Man-of-the-World’s Advice on a Matter of the Heart — The Visit To The Haymarket Theatre, and the Supper Afterwards with Kitty Conway — Randulph again Awkwardly Circumstanced with Hilda.
On the morning succeeding the visit to Marylebone Gardens, commemorated in the preceding chapter, as Trussell and Randulph sat together after breakfast, the latter communicated to his uncle what had occurred at the miser’s the day before, and besought him to give him a hope of obtaining Hilda’s hand.
“I wish I could do so, Randulph,” replied Trussell, who had questioned him particularly as to the lady’s deportment and manner during the interview; “but I don’t see how it is possible. Were it an ordinary case, I should say, go on — make the attempt. Difficulties, especially in love matters, are always to be overcome by perseverance. But it is not so here. In the first place, you have forfeited the lady’s esteem, and though that might be set to rights, if you had an opportunity for full explanation, yet as affairs now stand, it is awkward. Then — what is far more important — her father and my brother are averse to the match, and though it wouldn’t signify displeasing one of them, it won’t do to offend both.”
Randulph sighed deeply.
“If, from an over-nice sense of honour, which, though I applaud, I can scarcely understand,” pursued Trussell, “you had not given your property to your father’s creditors, you might have had Hilda for asking.”
“Were the choice still left me, I would act as I have done,” replied Randulph, emphatically. “I was bound to clear my father’s memory.”
“Nay, I am far from meaning to upbraid you,” replied Trussell. “I think your conduct singularly honourable and disinterested, and not the less so because it has been attended with the present result. But in regard to this union, upon which you seem to have set your heart, and about which you have consulted me, I cannot seriously recommend you to indulge the thought of it for a moment. The two old gentlemen, who have the reins in their hands, set their faces against it so entirely, that, even if the lady’s consent could be obtained, it would be the height of folly to proceed with it. You would only wed to beggary; and for Hilda’s sake, as well as your own, that must never be.”
“You are right!” cried Randulph, rising, and taking a turn round the room. “Is there no way of acquiring wealth expeditiously?”
“None that I am aware of,” replied Trussell; “unless you choose to have recourse to the gaming-table, or the highway. You may, if you please, turn Jacobite, and obtain a commission from King James the Third. Such things, I hear, are now daily given away; and if he should come to the throne, your fortune will be made.”
Randulph started; for this chance remark brought to his mind Cordwell Firebras’s proposal, with which his uncle was wholly unacquainted. A means of obtaining Hilda’s hand through the influence of this man, presented itself to him. But he rejected the idea as soon as conceived.
“Jesting apart, nephew,” said Trussell, who had noticed his confusion, but attributed it to a different cause; “you must give up all idea of Hilda. She is a charming girl, no doubt; but she is not the only charming girl in the world; and you must fall in love with some one else as quickly as you can. It seems impossible at present, I make no doubt. But don’t despair. You’ll get over your disappointment in time. Why not begin with Lady Brabazon? She has given you plenty of encouragement; and is just the woman to initiate you into the ways of the world. It would be quite worth your while to devote yourself to her for a season; and by this means you will gain a reputation for gallantry, which is very desirable for a young man.”
“I have no such ambition, uncle,” replied Randulph. “Lady Brabazon is extremely fascinating, but my heart is otherwise engaged.”
“Pshaw!” exclaimed Trussell, “we don’t live in the days of chivalry and eternal constancy. Men are no longer the preux chevaliers they used to be. Women like us all the better for a little infidelity. They fancy we’re better worth having when others are running after us. One success leads to another. Nourish, if you please, a secret passion for Hilda, but amuse yourself as you think proper, in the meantime. If it answers no other purpose, it will prevent you from doing something desperate. By-the-bye, it just occurs to me that we are to meet your lady love at the drum to-night. Now let me advise you how to act.”
Before the counsel could be given, Mr. Jukes entered the room, and delivering him a little perfumed billet, on a silver waiter, departed.
“From Lady Brab herself, I declare,” cried Trussell, glancing at the superscription, and breaking open the note. “Egad! here’s a disappointment. Old Scarve won’t allow his daughter to attend her ladyship’s drum to-night if we go there; and so, she prays us to dine with her to-morrow instead.”
“And thus I shall miss my only chance of seeing Hilda, while she will be exposed to the assiduities of that daring impertinent, Beau Villiers!” cried Randulph.
“Very true,” said Trussell, gravely.
“I won’t receive the back-word,” said Randulph; “I’ll go in spite of her ladyship.”
“Poh! poh! you mustn’t think of such a thing,” rejoined Trussell: “it would be an unheard-of impropriety; and you would only expose yourself to insult. It’s devilish unlucky, but it can’t be helped. I’ve pointed out to you the remedy for the evil. Forget Hilda, and replace her image with that of Lady Brabazon. If the beau robs you of your mistress, you can soon be even with him. Ha! ha! And now, since the plans of the day are so entirely changed, suppose we go into the city, and see some of the sights there, and afterwards dine at one of the coffee-houses. Who knows but we may meet with some adventure which may completely divert the current of your thoughts.”
Whatever Randulph might think of the probability of his uncle’s notion being realised, he acquiesced in the suggestion; and, not long after this, they sallied forth, and taking a boat at the Palace-stairs, rowed to the Tower, near which they were landed. Conversant with every object of interest in the old fortress, Trussell proved an excellent guide to his nephew, and they spent some hours in examining its various fortifications, and in talking over its historical recollections, as well as in visiting its armories and its lions, and such matters as were then and much more recently exhibited to the public. From the Tower they proceeded to the Royal Exchange, where they likewise spent some time. As the day had begun to draw in, Trussell proposed an adjournment to Kivat’s coffee-house, where, he averred, they were sure of a good dinner and excellent wine. Randulph assented, and to Kivat’s they repaired. Trussell’s assertion was found to be well warranted; the dinner
was capital, and the claret so good that, in spite of his nephew’s remonstrances, he called for a second bottle. Randulph had already drank more than he was accustomed to do, but he could not resist the bumpers pressed upon him by his jovial uncle, who assured him that the best way of getting rid of care was to drown it in the glass. A third bottle was called for, and disposed of; and Trussell then ordered a coach, and privately instructed the driver to take them to the Little Theatre in the Haymarket. On arriving there, they were shown, by Trussell’s desire, into a box near the stage; and as they entered it, the house was ringing with the applauses bestowed on a song which had just been executed by a female singer. The reiterated cries of encore were at length complied with by the fair object of them, who, advancing from the wings, whither she had retired, disclosed the figure and features of Kitty Conway. She repeated the song with infinite archness and spirit; and Randulph, like the rest of the house, was in raptures with her. He applauded vehemently; and, as Kitty gracefully curtseyed in return for the plaudits, she recognised him, and during the rest of the performance scarcely ever removed her eye from him. In spite of his efforts to avoid it, Randulph could not be insensible to the witchery of her glance, neither was he blind to the perfect symmetry of her exquisite little figure, displayed to the greatest advantage in a pretty peasant dress, or her airy movements, nor deaf to her joyous laugh that rung like silver upon his ears. He was, therefore, almost glad when the curtain fell, and hid her from his view.
Trussell, who had noted with secret satisfaction the effect produced by the pretty actress upon his nephew, and who had, perhaps not undesignedly, placed him so near her, now launched into a rapturous panegyric of her charms and talent, declaring both to be unapproachable; and while Randulph was assenting to all he heard, an orange-woman entered the box, as was then the custom, and while affecting to offer her basket of fruit to the elder gentleman, slipped a note into the hands of the younger. She then withdrew, and Randulph, opening the billet, found, as he anticipated, that it came from Kitty Conway, and contained an invitation to him to sup with her after the play.
“You will go, of course,” said Trussell, as his nephew showed him the note.
Randulph looked perplexed.
“What! afraid of a pretty woman?” laughed Trussell. “I had a better opinion of you. I’ll take care of you. Let me see where she lives. Oh, close by — at the corner of the Haymarket, next door to Cockspur-street. By-the-bye, the note is not directed. She doesn’t know your name. Ha! ha!”
“Well, I suppose I must go,” said Randulph.
“To be sure you must,” laughed Trussell. “You’ll forfeit all claim to be considered a youth of spirit if you don’t.”
The entertainments of the evening were concluded by another light opera called, ‘Trapolin’s Vagaries,’ in which Kitty Conway did not appear; and this over, they quitted the house, and repaired to the abode of the pretty actress. A footman in a rich livery admitted them, and ushered them into a small but exquisitely furnished apartment, blazing with wax lights and mirrors, where they found Kitty seated on a couch, conversing with an old gentleman, who, as he looked up at their entrance, proved to be Sir Singleton Spinke. An elderly female, probably the fair actress’s mother, was likewise present. The old beau seemed a little disconcerted on their appearance, but he instantly recovered himself. As to Kitty Conway, she sprang from the couch, and running towards Randulph, stretched out both hands to him with unfeigned joy, crying— “Oh! how very glad I am to see you. How kind in you to come! I had almost given you up. And now you must introduce yourself to me in due form; for though I wrote to you, you may have perceived I didn’t know how to address my billet.”
“Permit me to have that honor, sweet Kitty,” said Sir Singleton, stepping forward; “for both gentlemen are particular friends of mine. I was not aware they were coming, or I would have taken care to apprise you of their names. This is Mr. Randulph Crew, newly arrived from Cheshire, and with all the freshness — in every sense — of the country about him. And this is his uncle, Mr. Trussell Beechcroft.”
“And his guardian also, I presume,” laughed Kitty; “for it appears he won’t let him stir without him.”
“I ought to apologise for this intrusion, Mistress Conway,” said Trussell, “and I can only excuse myself on the ground of my excessive desire to make your acquaintance.”
“You are Mr. Crew’s uncle, sir — that is enough for me,” replied Kitty. “I am delighted to see you.”
“Trussell bowed, and placed his hand upon his heart — a gesture peculiar to people who have very little heart to be so indicated.
“You have got the start of us, Sir Singleton,” he said. “When we had the pleasure of seeing Mistress Conway at the Folly on the Thames, the other day, I fancied you were unknown to her.”
“Our acquaintance is only of two days’ date,” said Kitty. “Sir Singleton was good enough to send me—”
“Hush! hush! sweet Kitty, I implore you,” interrupted the old beau.
“Nay, I haven’t been enjoined to secrecy,” she rejoined. “He sent me a suit of diamonds worth five hundred pounds, entreating a moment’s interview in return, which of course I could not refuse.”
“Of course not,” laughed Trussell. “Do you hear that, Randulph?” he whispered to his nephew. “Ah, you’re a lucky dog!”
At this moment the servant entered the room, and announced supper. Kitty gave her arm to Randulph, and the old beau and Trussell contended for the elderly lady, who at length fell to the charge of the former.
Meanwhile, the pretty actress led her guest to the adjoining chamber, the walls of which were adorned with several choice paintings, most of them relating to theatrical subjects. Over the fire-place hung a portrait of Kitty herself in one of her favourite characters, and Randulph commented upon its resemblance to her with a warmth that brought the colour to her cheek, and caused her heart to palpitate against his arm. A round table stood in the middle of the room, loaded with cold chickens, cold ham, cold tongue, lobsters, pates, jellies, and salads. There were several sorts of wine on the table; ratafia, rosa solis, and usquebaugh on the side-board; and champagne in ice in the beaufet. As soon as the others made their appearance, Kitty dismissed the attendant.
“We can wait upon ourselves just as well,” she said; “and the presence of a servant is always a restraint.”
“I am quite of your opinion,” said Trussell. “Allow me to offer you a wing of a chicken?”
“Thankye,” replied Kitty, “Pray take care of yourself. Have you ever seen me play Flora before, Mr. Crew?”
“I am almost ashamed to confess that this is the first time I have ever been in a theatre in London,” replied Randulph.
“I told you he was fresh from the country, Kitty,” laughed the old beau; “very fresh.”
“I like him all the better for it,” she replied. “How singular I should be the first actress you have seen.”
“Singularly delightful!” rejoined Randulph, gallantly.
And Trussell, who sat next him, nudged him in token of his approbation.
“By-the-bye, Sir Singleton,” he said, “I haven’t yet inquired how we chance to see you here to-night. I thought you were engaged to Lady Brab’s drum?”
“So I was,” replied the old beau. “In fact, I have been there for a couple of hours, but I prefer a supper with Kitty Conway to all the parties in the universe.”
“You flatter me,” rejoined the fair object of the compliment; “such a pretty speech deserves a glass of champagne. Will you join me and Mr. Crew in one?”
“With the greatest pleasure,” replied Sir Singleton.
And springing up with an agility perfectly youthful, he took a bottle from the ice-pail, and poured its foaming contents into Kitty’s glass.
“A thousand thanks, Sir Singleton,” she said. “I’m concerned to give you so much trouble.”
“Don’t say a word,” replied the old beau, bowing. “I’m enchanted to be your slave.”
> “I see no reason why we shouldn’t follow their example, madam,” said Trussell, taking the bottle from Randulph, and assisting the elderly lady.
“Nor I,” she replied, returning his bow.
“By-the-bye, Mr. Crew,” said Sir Singleton, “old Scarve the miser, and his daughter Hilda, were at Lady Brab’s to-night.”
“I understood they were expected,” said the young man, setting down his glass.
“I hope the wine, is not too much iced for you?” remarked Kitty, anxiously.
“Not in the least,” he replied.
“She seemed to be greatly admired,” resumed Sir Singleton; “but for my part, I agree with Clementina Brabazon in thinking her beauty over-rated. One thing, perhaps, might be against her — she was decidedly out of spirits.”
Randulph finished his glass.
“Who are you speaking of?” asked Kitty, who, in her anxiety about Randulph, had not caught the previous remark.
“Hilda Scarve,” replied Sir Singleton. “She is considered very beautiful. But she won’t bear a comparison with some one I could point out.”
“I accept the compliment, Sir Singleton,” rejoined Kitty smiling. “I have heard of this fair creature before. Give me some ratafia, Mr. Crew, and pledge me. I can play the hostess, you perceive.”
“To perfection — as you play everything else,” returned Randulph.
“Why, you have only seen me in one part, and can’t therefore judge,” she replied. “However, I accept the compliment, as I have just done Sir Singleton’s.”
Trussell had felt some uneasiness about his nephew during the latter part of the conversation, but he now hoped the danger was past. He was mistaken.
“I forgot to say, Mr. Crew,” remarked Sir Singleton, with a little covert malice, “that Villiers paid the miser’s daughter very marked attention, and devoted himself to her almost exclusively during the whole time I remained.”
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