Part 36 (2/2)

Ha! ha!”

To my acute distress he here thumbed me in the ribs and laughed again.

Was he, too, I wondered, madly resolved to be a dead sportsman in the face of the unavoidable? I sought to edge in a discreet word of condolence, for I knew that between us there need be no pretence.

”I know you did your best, sir,” I observed. ”And I was never quite free of a fear that the woman would prove too many for us. I trust the Honourable George----”

But I had said as much as he would let me. He interrupted me with his thumb again, and on his face was what in a lesser person I should unhesitatingly have called a leer.

”You dog, you! Woman prove too many for us, what, what! Dare say you knew what to expect. Silly old George! Though how she could ever have fancied the juggins----”

I was about to remark that the creature had of course played her game from entirely sordid motives and I should doubtless have ventured to applaud the game spirit in which he was taking the blow. But before I could shape my phrases on this delicate ground Mrs. Effie, the Senator, and Cousin Egbert arrived. They somewhat formally had the air of being expected. All of them rushed upon his lords.h.i.+p with an excessive manner. Apparently they were all to be dead sportsmen together. And then Mrs. Effie called me aside.

”You can do me a favour,” she began. ”About the wedding breakfast and reception. Dear Kate's place is so small. It wouldn't do. There will be a crush, of course. I've had the loveliest idea for it--our own house. You know how delighted we'd be. The Earl has been so charming and everything has turned out so splendidly. Oh, I'd love to do them this little parting kindness. Use your influence like a good fellow, won't you, when the thing is suggested?”

”Only too gladly,” I responded, sick at heart, and she returned to the group. Well I knew her motive. She was by way of getting even with the Belknap-Jacksons. As Cousin Egbert in his American fas.h.i.+on would put it, she was trying to pa.s.s them a bison. But I was willing enough she should house the dreadful affair. The more private the better, thought I.

A moment later Belknap-Jackson's car appeared at my door, now discharging the Klondike woman, effusively escorted by the Mixer and by Mrs. Belknap-Jackson. The latter at least, I had thought, would show more principle. But she had buckled atrociously, quite as had her husband, who had quickly, almost merrily, followed them. There was increased gayety as they seated themselves about the large table, a silly noise of pretended felicitation over a calamity that not even the tenth Earl of Brinstead had been able to avert. And then Belknap-Jackson beckoned me aside.

”I want your help, old chap, in case it's needed,” he began.

”The wedding breakfast and reception?” I said quite cynically.

”You've thought of it? Good! Her own place is far too small. Crowd, of course. And it's rather proper at our place, too, his lords.h.i.+p having been our house guest. You see? Use what influence you have. The affair will be rather widely commented on--even the New York papers, I dare say.”

”Count upon me,” I answered blandly, even as I had promised Mrs.

Effie. Disgusted I was. Let them maul each other about over the wretched ”honour.” They could all be dead sports if they chose, but I was now firmly resolved that for myself I should make not a bit of pretence. The creature might trick poor George into a marriage, but I for one would not affect to regard it as other than a blight upon our house. I was just on the point of hoping that the victim himself might have cut off to unknown parts when I saw him enter. By the other members of the party he was hailed with cries of delight, though his own air was finely honest, being dejected in the extreme. He was dressed as regrettably as usual, this time in parts of two lounge-suits.

As he joined those at the table I constrained myself to serve the champagne. Senator Floud arose with a br.i.m.m.i.n.g gla.s.s.

”My friends,” he began in his public-speaking manner, ”let us remember that Red Gap's loss is England's gain--to the future Countess of Brinstead!”

To my astonishment this appalling breach of good taste was received with the loudest applause, nor was his lords.h.i.+p the least clamorous of them. I mean to say, the chap had as good as wished that his lords.h.i.+p would directly pop off. It was beyond me. I walked to the farthest window and stood a long time gazing pensively out; I wished to be away from that false show. But they noticed my absence at length and called to me. Monstrously I was desired to drink to the happiness of the groom. I thought they were pressing me too far, but as they quite gabbled now with their tea and things, I hoped to pa.s.s it off. The Senator, however, seemed to fasten me with his eye as he proposed the toast--”To the happy man!”

I drank perforce.

”A body would think Bill was drinking to the Judge,” remarked Cousin Egbert in a high voice.

”Eh?” I said, startled to this outburst by his strange words.

”Good old George!” exclaimed his lords.h.i.+p. ”Owe it all to the old juggins, what, what!”

The Klondike person spoke. I heard her voice as a bell pealing through breakers at sea. I mean to say, I was now fair dazed.

”Not to old George,” said she. ”To old Ruggles!”

”To old Ruggles!” promptly cried the Senator, and they drank.

Muddled indeed I was. Again in my eventful career I felt myself tremble; I knew not what I should say, any _savoir faire_ being quite gone. I had received a crumpler of some sort--but what _sort?_

My sleeve was touched. I turned blindly, as in a nightmare. The Hobbs cub who was my vestiare was handing me our evening paper. I took it from him, staring--staring until my knees grew weak. Across the page in clarion type rang the unbelievable words:

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