“Understand, Silas, this is no sporting event!” said Kennet. “Miss Deborah wants Ravenscar delivered to her without commotion. There will be no turn-up.”
Mr Wantage seemed dissatisfied with this ruling, and shook his head disapprovingly at Lucius Kennet’s plan of clubbing the victim into insensibility. But when it had, been shown to him that an impromptu turn-up in the Park, even at dusk and in a little-frequented locality, could scarcely fail to attract attention, he yielded the point, and promised to assist Kennet to accomplish the business with the least possible amount of uproar.
Lady Bellingham’s thoughts were diverted upon Wednesday afternoon by the arrival from Kent of Mr Christopher Grantham, in all the glory of his scarlet regimentals.
Kit Grantham was three years younger than his sister. He was a pleasant-looking young man, fairer than Deborah, and without her brilliance of eye. From the circumstance of his having been granted every indulgence by his doting aunt, he had grown up to be rather spoilt, and not much inclined to consider the wishes of other people, but this selfishness arose more from thoughtlessness than from any badness of disposition, and he was in general very well-liked, having amiable manners, a good seat on a horse, and an open-handed nature which led him to spend a great deal of money in the sort of hospitality appreciated by his friends in the regiment.
He had not been to London on leave for above a year, so that his aunt and sister were delighted to see him, and could not fail to notice many changes in him, due to his advancing years. They hung about him in the fondest way, and found him all that a young officer should be. He was glad to be with them again, kissed them both most affectionately, and did his best to answer all their eager questions. But Deborah’s asking him if he were happy in his career, and liked the other officers in the 14th, recalled to his mind its most pressing preoccupation, and he immediately adverted to the desirability of his exchanging into a cavalry regiment.
Deborah said at once that he must put such an idea out of his head, since the cost of it would be too great.
“Oh, but it would not be above eight hundred pounds, and very likely less, with the exchange money!” Kit assured her. “I have a particular reason for wishing to be in a better regiment. You know, it is shabby work to be in a Line regiment, Deb! Only think how well a Hussar uniform would become your only brother!”
Miss Grantham, however, was impervious to his cajolery, and replied: “Indeed, Kit, it would be impossible! Poor Aunt Lizzie has had such losses lately that you would not wish her to be put to extra expense on your account.”
“Oh no. But you are bound to come about again, ma’am, I am persuaded! You would like to see me in a pelisse and silver lace, now, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, but I do not know how it may be managed, dearest,” said Lady Bellingham, looking very much distressed. “You have no idea what a charge this house is upon me! And now here is—” She broke off, as she encountered a warning glance from her niece, and said hurriedly: “But that we shall say nothing about! We will talk of it later, Kit.”
“But you are living in such famous style here!” he said, looking about him critically. “I never saw anything to equal it. It must have cost a fortune to furnish this house!”
“Well, that is just it,” replied his aunt. “It did cost a fortune, not that it is paid for yet, because no one could possibly pay such bills as the wretched people are for ever dunning me with, but the thing is that everyone wants to run upon tick nowadays, and the times are so bad I declare it is a rarity to see a rouleau of as much as twenty guineas! And the E.O. table does not answer as well as we had hoped, besides being not quite the style of thing I like to have in my house.”
“An E.O. table!” he repeated, in astonished accents. “My dear ma’am, you do not have that here, surely?”
“Why not?” asked his sister, in rather a hard voice. “This is a gaming-house, Kit.”
He stirred uneasily in his chair, and began to talk about private parties.
“Oh, we send out cards of invitation, but we turn no one away from our door who has a few guineas to risk at the tables!” Deborah said.
It was evident that he could not like this, but as he stood a little in awe of his sister he did not say much until she had left the room. He turned then to Lady Bellingham, and desired her to tell him what could have possessed her to change the character of her evening-parties.
It had been agreed between Deborah and Lady Bellingham that nothing should be told Kit about the mortgage on the house, or Mr Ravenscar’s threats to foreclose, but her ladyship divulged the rest of the story, not omitting the scandalous bill for green peas, or the inclusion in the household of Phoebe Laxton. Kit was quite bewildered, and had the greatest difficulty in unravelling the story. His sense of propriety, offended at the outset by the discovery that his aunt’s select card-parties had sadly deteriorated, was still more severely tried by the knowledge that an attempt had been made to bribe his sister into relinquishing her claims to Lord Mablethorpe’s title and fortune; but he said, in a fair-minded way, that if she had been allowed for the past year to preside over the saloons of what had become no better than a common gaming-house, he was not at all surprised, and could not blame Mablethorpe’s relations for misliking the connexion.
Lady Bellingham wept, and never thought of telling him that his own expensive habits had had much to do in making it necessary for her to turn her home into a gaming-house. She said that it was all very unlucky, but indeed she had not known where to turn for money to pay the tradesmen. As for Deb, if only she could be brought to marry Mablethorpe, there would be no harm done, but, on the contrary, a great deal of good. “For she met him at the faro-table, you know, Kit, and even if he is a little young for her, it would be a splendid match!”
“I cannot think what can possess her to refuse such an eligible offer!” exclaimed Mr Grantham. “Particularly now, when it would mean everything to me to have my sister in a position of consequence! However, she knows nothing of that yet, and I daresay she will change her mind when I tell her.”
“Tell her what, dear boy?” asked his aunt, drying her eyes. “I assure you, she will listen to no one! Indeed, I think she has taken leave of her senses!”
Mr Grantham coloured, stammered, and then said in a self-conscious voice: “The fact is, ma’am, I expect—that is, I hope—I believe I may say that I have every reason to think that—t—in short, aunt, I am in the expectation of being married herself shortly. You will recall that I mentioned the subject to you in a letter.”
“Oh, yes!” said her ladyship, sighing. “But Deb says she cannot possibly be meaning to get married yet, and indeed Kit, you are very young to be thinking of such a thing!”
“Deb is a great deal too busy!” said Kit, affronted. “She never been in love, so I may not be either! But if you could only see her, aunt!”
“But I do see her!” objected her ladyship. “What can you thinking of, Kit?”
“Not Deb! Arabella!” said Mr Grantham, pronouncing name in a reverent tone.
“Oh!” said his aunt. “But it will cost you far more to be married than if you were to stay single, dearest. You can have notion what housekeeping bills are like! Only fancy! Seven pounds for green peas!”
“Well, as to that,” said Mr Grantham, reddening still more. “Arabella is quite an heiress. Not that I mean to live upon fortune, which is one reason why I should like to exchange ma’am. But she comes of one of the best families, and all hinges upon my being found acceptable by her guardian. It would above anything great if Deb were to become Lady Mablethorpe! Only think what a difference it would make.”