“Oh, by Jupiter, yes! I should rather think I do! What a squeeze it will be!”
“Devilish!” agreed his lordship.
“Bound to be!” said Endymion, wisely nodding. “First ball at Alverstoke House since Cousin Eliza’s come-out — so Mama says! Bound to be a squeeze!” Becoming aware of the presence of Master Felix Merriville, who, bored with this conversation, had given the Marquis’s sleeve an admonitory tug, he looked down at him from his Olympian height, vaguely surprised, and then directed a questioning look at Alverstoke. Informed that Felix was Fred Merriville’s youngest child, he said: “No, is he? Well, by Jove! Fred Merriville!” After that, he somewhat naively added: “Got a devilish bad memory! — Who is Fred Merriville?”
“He was a cousin of mine,” coolly replied the Marquis. “Unhappily, he is now deceased; and as he was some years my senior I should doubt whether you ever knew him.”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t,” confessed Endymion. “But I have it now! You’ve become guardian to his children, cousin! Mama was telling me. Said you were giving the ball for them. She don’t seem to like it above half, but I’ll be dashed if I know why!” He lowered his gaze again to Felix’s impatient countenance, and a frown creased his brow. “Except that — well, damn it, this nipperkin don’t want to go to a ball, do you, young ’un?”
“No!” said Felix, with unnecessary emphasis. “I want to go to the foundry!”
“You shall, Felix, you shall!” said the Marquis reassuringly. He bent his sardonic glance upon his heir, and said: “Perhaps you would like to accompany us, Endymion?”
Mr Dauntry, though he laid no claim to being (as he phrased it) up to all the rigs, was by no means (as he also phrased it) a bag-pudding. Foundries were connected in his mind, in a rather nebulous way, with guns, and he said, knowledgeably: “Artillery, eh? No, no, beyond my touch, cousin!”
He then took leave of Alverstoke, and proceeded on his way, feeling none of the amazement or the apprehension which tortured his mother and his astute Cousin Louisa, but accepting with perfect equanimity Alverstoke’s explanation of the interest he felt in the unknown Merrivilles.
Any faint hope that Alverstoke might have cherished that he would be denied admittance to the foundry perished at the outset. His estimable secretary had not failed to pave the way for him: no sooner had he presented his card than every door, metaphorically speaking, was flung wide, and the head of the foundry, attended by various senior satellites, was hastily summoned to conduct him all over the building. This extremely competent person not only declared that he was honoured by his lordship’s visit, but assured him also of his readiness to explain the intricacies of whatever piece of modern machinery it was that had attracted his lordship’s curiosity: a promise which convinced Felix that his instinct had not misled him when it had prompted him to reject the offer of Mr Trevor’s escort. “He would have never have done it for Mr — Mr Thingummy!” he whispered triumphantly.
By what his lordship considered to be a rare stroke of good fortune, the manager of the foundry was not only the progenitor of a large family, but had failed to discover in any of his sons a trace of his genius. Within five minutes of making the youngest Merriville’s acquaintance he recognized in him a kindred spirit; and from then on the Marquis was allowed, much to his relief, to sink into the background. He followed meekly in the wake of the enthusiasts; and the tedium of the expedition was alleviated for him by Felix, in whom he found himself taking an unexpected interest. He knew little, and cared less, about blowing-machines or pneumatic lifts, but he very soon realized that the questions Felix put to their guide showed sufficient knowledge to command that expert’s respect. He began to think that there was more to Felix than he had at first supposed; and he was not surprised when, at the end of their exhaustive tour of the foundry, the manager ventured to congratulate him on that young gentleman’s remarkable understanding. He was aware of a flicker of pride in his protégé, and that did surprise him.
As for Felix himself, it was evident that nothing in his experience had ever come within striking distance of the high treat he had enjoyed. Rendered almost inarticulate by the speculations engendered in his busy brain by the information he had acquired, he could only stammer out his gratitude, and express (anxiously) the hope that Cousin Alverstoke had also enjoyed himself. “J-Jessamy said you didn’t w-want to come, but you did, sir, d-didn’t you?”
“To be sure I did!” replied the Marquis, perjuring his soul without hesitation.
“And even if you didn’t, you m-must have been interested!” said Felix, with a brilliant smile.
The Marquis agreed to this too. He then summoned up a hackney, and put Felix into it, directing the jarvey to drive him to Upper Wimpole Street, and at the same time bestowing a guinea upon Felix: largesse so handsome as to deprive the recipient of all power of speech until the jarvey had whipped up his horse, and to make it necessary for him to lean perilously out of the window of the hack to shout his thanks to his benefactor.
IX
While the Marquis was enjoying a hedonistic sojourn at Cheveley, attending the Second Spring Meeting at Newmarket every day, and watching his promising filly, Firebrand, win a Subscription race against strong competition, the Merriville ladies were busy with the preparations necessary for their forthcoming appearance at the Alverstoke Ball, slightly, but not (except for one incident) very seriously harassed by the exploits of the scions of the family. Finding his brother immersed in his studies, and his sisters in frills and furbelows, Felix sought amusement on his own account. He remembered that the Marquis had said that Mr Trevor should go with him to Margate on the steam-packet; but when he called at Alverstoke House to remind Charles of this promise, he was disappointed to learn that Charles, having been granted leave of absence, had gone out of town. This was disappointing; but Felix thought that he might at least go down to the river to watch the packet steam away. That, as he afterwards explained, was all he had meant to do; and if the day had not been so fine, the paddle-wheels so fascinating, and the fare to Margate so moderate (if one did not object to the Common Cabin), that was all he would have done. But the combination of these circumstances, coupled with the wealth jingling in his pocket, had proved to be too much for his virtuous resolve to do nothing which Frederica might not quite like. If the guinea bestowed upon him by the Marquis was not intact, at least enough of it was left to enable him to disburse nine shillings for the privilege of spending a great many hours on a crowded boat, in the company of a set of far from fashionable persons, most of whom his more fastidious brother would have stigmatized as members of the Great Unwashed. Besides, he had made the acquaintance, on the quay, of the marine engineer, a bang-up fellow! To have missed such a chance of widening his knowledge would have been flying in the face of providence: he was sure that Frederica wouldn’t have wished him to do that!
In fact, he had spent very little time in the Common Cabin: his real enthusiasm and his happy knack of making friends wherever he went stood him in good stead, and the ship’s company had taken him to their hearts. That was certainly fortunate, as Frederica recognized, when she suitably recompensed the burly individual who restored him to her next day, for he would otherwise have been obliged to spend the night on the beach, the sum left in his pocket not being sufficient to pay for a lodging in Margate. So he had offered his services to the Captain (yet another bang-up fellow), and after being given a rare trimming he had been allowed to remain on board, and had been brought back to London as a stowaway: a circumstance which seemed to afford him the highest gratification.