Miss Chawleigh bore herself throughout with composure, but rather silently: a circumstance on which her father rallied her, as they drove back to Russell Square. She said: “Well, I like listening better than talking. But I did talk, Papa: to my lord, and to Miss — to Charlotte! She has asked me to call her that.”
“Mighty condescending of her!” he grunted. “How do you go on with her? Proud sort of a girl, ain’t she?”
“Oh, no! She was very kind, and means to like me, which is truly good, I think, because she doesn’t wish my lord to marry me. She tried hard to seem pleased. I’d like to tell her that I understand how she must feel, but I don’t know her well enough. And perhaps it wouldn’t be quite the thing.”
“Now, Jenny, tell me to my head!” commanded Mr Chawleigh, laying his hand on her knee. “You don’t want to draw back, my girl? I’m not forcing you into it, mind!”
“No, I don’t want to do that,” she replied uncommunicatively.
He sat back again in his comer of the carriage, saying that he was glad of it. “Setting aside the position you’ll have — not that that’s a thing to be lightly done, and don’t you think it! — I like his lordship. That’s not to say that he’s after my cut, or that I’d want to be joined with him in business, but he’s my notion of a regular gentleman. As for his family, I’m sure his ma is a sweet lady, poor soul! I didn’t take to that sister myself, but if she treats you as she ought, which you say she does, she may be as niffy-naffy as she pleases for aught I care. Taking the fat with the lean, I like his lordship’s family better than I thought to do.”
It was unfortunate that his lordship’s family did not reciprocate these sentiments. Lady Lynton, bearing the appearance of one prevented from swooning only by frequent recourse to her vinaigrette, begged to be told what she had done to deserve such an infliction as Mr Chawleigh; and Charlotte exclaimed, wringing her hands: “Oh, my dear Adam, you should have warned us! The shock to poor Mama! We never supposed he could be such a very vulgar person!”
“Oh, come now!” Lambert said, laughing. “It’s natural you should think so, but I can tell you there are many worse! Though I must say — ” He stopped, encountering Adam’s eyes, blinked, and then said rather hastily: “I beg pardon! One’s tongue runs away with one sometimes!”
Adam nodded, and turned away from him. The ladies were not to be so easily silenced, and, after the usual practice of people discussing the faults of the absent, soon discovered in Mr Chawleigh many and more serious shortcomings than had originally been apparent to them. It was useless to defend him; and an attempt to bring the debate to an end merely resulted in Lady Lynton’s exclaiming tragically that things had come to a pretty pass when a mother might not speak frankly to her son. She added that she hoped she had too much regard for his feelings to utter one word in disparagement of his future wife. She could only trust that he would be able to prevail upon her not to overload her person with jewels which, besides being ostentatious, were unsuited to her years, and could at no time be worn to advantage by squabby females who had neither air nor countenance to set them off.
Charlotte felt that this was going too far. She said quickly: “Depend upon it, she only does so because her father wishes it! How thankful we must be that she is not at all like him!”
“Exactly so!” said Lambert. “A very agreeable girl, and with a good understanding, I daresay. As for her father — well, ma’am, there’s no need to think about him, after all! I heard him tell you that he didn’t mean to force himself on you.”
“If I could believe he meant it!” sighed the widow.
“You may at least believe, Mama, that I mean it when I tell you that he will at all times be made welcome in my house!” said Adam, rather sternly.
“Oh, Adam, not at Fontley!” Charlotte cried involuntarily.
“Certainly at Fontley! You seem to forget that but for him Fontley must have been sold! Do you imagine that I shan’t invite him to visit us there? Handsome of me!”
She turned her face away, saying in a low voice: “I had forgotten, or perhaps haven’t allowed myself to reflect upon a circumstance so mortifying — so impossible to bring oneself to accept! I will say no more.”
“I think enough has been said,” he returned wearily.
This sentiment was not shared by his mother, who declared herself compelled to say that no one had considered her feelings. Her sole consolation was that Adam’s poor father was not alive to be similarly lacerated.
Charlotte burst into tears, uttering a choked protest; but a rueful smile crept into Adam’s eyes. All he said, however, was: “Very well, Mama. Shall I cry off? Is that what you wish?”
If he expected the Dowager to be confounded by this question he underrated her. She told him that she had no wishes that were not bound up in the happiness of her dear ones. “Far be it from me to try to influence you!” she said. “Alas, our natures are so widely opposed, dearest, that I cannot tell what will make you happy! Wealth means nothing to me. It is otherwise with you, and you must judge for yourself. One thing you may be-sure of: no word of blame will ever pass your mother’s lips!”
On this splendid line she withdrew to her bedchamber, leaning on Charlotte’s arm, and denying any expectation of closing her eyes all night.
Happily for her dear ones, her thoughts were given another direction on the following day by the news that Wimmering had received a very handsome offer for Lynton House. Indeed, the prospective purchaser was prepared to pay the high price set on it if he could have immediate possession. Adam closed with this offer; and the pangs which instantly assailed his parent were almost as quickly cured by his telling her that the sale would make it possible for him to provide for Lydia. So Lady Lynton was able to mourn the loss of a house she neither liked nor wanted, and was supplied with a self-sacrificing reason for acquiescing in its sale. She had now only to decide which pieces of furniture she wished to keep for her own use. Adam gave her carte blanche to take what she chose, and left her to Charlotte’s management. Since everything the house contained appeared to hold precious, if hitherto unsuspected, memories, it seemed unlikely that much would remain to be put in store.
Chapter VII
The wedding took place on April 20th, a date that coincided with Louis XVIIIth’s entry into London, where he was met in state by the Prince Regent. He had been living privately at Hartwell, and this was the first time in his twenty years of exile that he had been publicly acknowledged as King of France. This circumstance did much to reconcile Mr Chawleigh to the quiet function forced on him by Adam’s bereavement. “For it stands to reason,” he said, “that with all this fuss and to-do over that Frenchy no one would have paid any heed if I’d done the thing twice as handsomely as I’d have wished to!”