Part 7 (2/2)

”I mean to, sir,” Sir Robin said, placidly. ”In fact, I'm speaking on 'The Ideal of a Universal Peace' on Monday evening at the Finsbury Democratic Debating Club.”

When Sir Robin came to town there had been an apprehension in his uncle's breast, too well-founded, that the Dowager would follow him. She was devoted to her son, and not at all disposed to take the General's views about his recreancy in politics.

”A good many good people are on the Radical side, after all,” she said, ”and there is, perhaps, more room, too, for a young man of Robin's ambitions in the Radical party.”

”So far as I can see,” said the General, acidly, ”his ambitions are rather to succeed at the bottom than at the top. The applause of the mult.i.tude appeals to him more than the praise of his equals or superiors.”

Lady Drummond glanced coldly at his heated face.

”I fancy you've an attack of gout coming on, Denis,” she said. ”I should send for Sir Harley Dix, if I were you.”

She had stopped the General just as he was on his own doorstep, setting his face cheerfully eastwards on his way to Pall Mall. He had come back with her. He knew his duty to his brother's widow better than to do anything else. It was Wednesday, and on Wednesday there was always a particular curry at lunch which he much affected. He was a connoisseur in curries, and the _chef_ always made this with an eye to Sir Denis's approval. He would have to shorten his walk and 'bus part of the way, or the curry would be cold. He hated to be put out in his daily routine.

”I never was freer from gout in my life, Matilda,” he said, with indignation. ”I don't trouble the doctors much. When I want their advice I shall ask for it. I always ask for advice when I want it.”

She looked at him with unconcern.

”Do you think Nelly will soon be back?” she asked.

”I don't know. When she takes the dogs for a walk she is often out for a couple of hours. Perhaps it would be too long a time to wait.”

In his mind he could see the curry disappearing before the other men who liked it as much as he did. Grogan would always eat curry--that special curry--to the General's indignation. Why, curry was the last thing Grogan ought to eat! Wasn't he as yellow as the curry itself with chronic liver? Grogan was greedy over that curry--a greedy fellow, the General said to himself, remembering the many occasions when it had been impossible for him to break away from Grogan and his grievances. If her Ladys.h.i.+p was going to sit on endlessly! The General's manners were too good to leave her to sit by herself. And she was untying her bonnet strings! He might as well lunch at home. No, he wouldn't do that, not if her Ladys.h.i.+p was going to stay to lunch. He supposed he could have lunch somewhere, if not at his club.

”Pray, don't put yourself out for me, Denis,” her Ladys.h.i.+p was saying, with what pa.s.sed for graciousness in her. ”I know your usual habits. At your age a man doesn't like to be put out of his habits. Don't mind me, pray. I can amuse myself very well till Nelly comes in. Plenty of books and papers, I see. You subscribe to Mudie's. I thought no one subscribed to Mudie's now that we have so many Free Libraries. I have never been able to afford myself a library subscription, even although we lived in the country. Now that I am going to settle in town----”

”Settle in town!” The General's eyes were almost starting from his head.

”I'd no idea, Matilda, you were going to settle in town. What's going to become of the Court?”

”I have an idea of letting it for a few years. Mr. Higbid, the very rich hide merchant, has taken a fancy to the place. I have yet to hear what Robin will say. Mr. Higbid is prepared to pay a fancy price----”

”He'd have to before I'd let him into my drawing-room,” said the General, with disgust. ”Imagine letting the Court! And to a man who sells hides!”

”His money is as good as anybody else's. And he is received everywhere.

You are really too old-fas.h.i.+oned, Denis. Your ways need altering.”

”I am too old to change, ma'am,” said the General, getting up and giving himself a shake like a dog. ”If you don't really mind being left----” He wanted to get away to think over the fact that the Dowager was going to settle in town. He could hardly keep himself from groaning. His peace was all at an end. If he had not been too old to change, he would have fled from London and left it to the Dowager. But big as it was, it was too little to contain himself and the Dowager with any prospect of peace.

”I'll stay and have lunch with Nelly,” the Dowager went on, quite ignorant of his perturbation. ”Afterwards, I'm going to take her to see houses with me. _Of course_, I shall settle in your immediate neighbourhood, if I can find anything suitable. I'm going to take Nelly off your hands a bit, take her about and advise her as to her frocks.

She was wearing white chiffon the last time we dined here--a most perishable material. I don't think your purse is long enough for white chiffon, Denis. Then the young people ought to see more of each other.

We ought to be talking about trousseaux----”

But at this point the General fled. If he had stayed another second he would have said things that his kind and chivalrous heart would have grieved over later. He fled, and left her Ladys.h.i.+p staring after him in amazement.

He clean forgot about the curry in the fretting and fuming of his mind, or it occurred to him only to be consigned to Grogan, as though Grogan were a synonym for something much stronger. His fiery indignation between Sherwood Square and Pall Mall was quite amazing. The Dowager in the next street! Why, he might as well order his coffin. And talking about taking Nelly from him. That m.u.f.f, Robin, too! When had the fellow shown any impatience? He didn't want the girl to marry an oyster. He remembered the glory and glamour of his own love affair, of that golden year of marriage. His Nelly ought to be loved as her mother had been before her, as her mother's daughter deserved to be. He wasn't going to yield her to a fellow who would only give her half his tepid heart, who would leave her to spend her evenings alone while he spouted in Radical clubs or in that big talking shop, the House of Commons. He wouldn't have it. And still----Robin was poor Gerald's son, and there was nothing against him but his politics. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, the General recognised the fact that he could have forgiven the politics if it had not been for the Dowager.

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