Part 13 (1/2)

Then he saw he had to do with a termagant, and consented, with a sigh.

She drove him westward, wincing every now and then at her close driving, and told him all, and showed him what she was pleased to call her little game. He told her it was too romantic. Said he, ”You ladies read nothing but novels; but the real world is quite different from the world of novels.” Having delivered this remonstrance--which was tolerably just, for she never read anything but novels and sermons--he submitted like a lamb, and received her instructions.

She drove as fast as she talked, so that by this time they were at Admiral Bruce's door.

Now Mr. Oldfield took the lead, as per instructions. ”Mr. Oldfield, solicitor, and a lady--on business.”

The porter delivered this to the footman with the accuracy which all who send verbal messages deserve and may count on. ”Mr. Oldfield and lady.”

The footman, who represented the next step in oral tradition, without which form of history the Heathen world would never have known that Hannibal softened the rocks with vinegar, nor the Christian world that eleven thousand virgins dwelt in a German town the size of Putney, announced the pair as ”Mr. and Mrs. Hautville.”

”I don't know them, I think. Well, I will see them.”

They entered, and the admiral stared a little, and wondered how this couple came together--the keen but plain old man, with clothes hanging on him, and the das.h.i.+ng beauty, with her dress in the height of the fas.h.i.+on, and her gauntleted hands. However, he bowed ceremoniously, and begged his visitors to be seated.

Now the folding-doors were ajar, and the _soi-disant_ Mrs. Oldfield peeped. She saw Bella Bruce at some distance, seated by the fire, in a reverie.

Judge that young lady's astonishment when she looked up and observed a large white, well-shaped hand, sparkling with diamonds and rubies, beckoning her furtively.

The owner of that sparkling hand soon heard a soft rustle of silk come toward the door; the very rustle, somehow, was eloquent, and betrayed love and timidity, and something innocent yet subtle. The jeweled hand went in again directly.

CHAPTER VIII.

MEANTIME Mr. Oldfield began to tell the admiral who he was, and that he was come to remove a false impression about a client of his, Sir Charles Ba.s.sett.

”That, sir,” said the admiral, sternly, ”is a name we never mention here.”

He rose and went to the folding-doors, and deliberately closed them.

The Somerset, thus defeated, bit her lip, and sat all of a heap, like a cat about to spring, looking sulky and vicious.

Mr. Oldfield persisted, and, as he took the admiral's hint and lowered his voice, he was interrupted no more, but made a simple statement of those facts which are known to the reader.

Admiral Bruce heard them, and admitted that the case was not quite so bad as he had thought.

Then Mr. Oldfield proposed that Sir Charles should be re-admitted.

”No,” said the old admiral, firmly; ”turn it how you will, it is too ugly; the bloom of the thing is gone. Why should my daughter take that woman's leavings? Why should I give her pure heart to a man about town?”

”Because you will break it else,” said Miss Somerset, with affected politeness.

”Give her credit for more dignity, madam, if you please,” replied Admiral Bruce, with equal politeness.

”Oh, bother dignity!” cried the Somerset.

At this free phrase from so well-dressed a lady Admiral Bruce opened his eyes, and inquired of Oldfield, rather satirically, who was this lady that did him the honor to interfere in his family affairs.

Oldfield looked confused; but Somerset, full of mother-wit, was not to be caught napping. ”I'm a by-stander; and they always see clearer than the folk themselves. You are a man of honor, sir, and you are very clever at sea, no doubt, and a fighter, and all that; but you are no match for land-sharks. You are being made a dupe and a tool of. Who do you think wrote that anonymous letter to your daughter? A friend of truth? a friend of injured innocence? Nothing of the sort. One Richard Ba.s.sett--Sir Charles's cousin. Here, Mr. Oldfield, please compare these two handwritings closely, and you will see I am right.” She put down the anonymous letter and Richard Ba.s.sett's letter to herself; but she could not wait for Mr. Oldfield to compare the doc.u.ments, now her tongue was set going. ”Yes, gentlemen, this is new to you; but you'll find that little scheming rascal wrote them both, and with as base a motive and as black a heart as any other anonymous coward's. His game is to make Sir Charles Ba.s.sett die childless, and so then this dirty fellow would inherit the estate; and owing to you being so green, and swallowing an anonymous letter like pure water from the spring, he very nearly got his way. Sir Charles has been at death's door along of all this.”