"Promise! I shall cry if you do not!"
"I cannot! How could I prey upon your hospitality for so-"
"What rubbish, Jack! As if Miles had not spent months and months at Wyncham when you were boys-"
"That was different-"
"-when you were boys, and now you are so proud that you refuse to stay three miserable little months with us-"
"No, no, Molly; indeed, 'tis not that!"
"Confess, if Miles were a bachelor, you would not hesitate?"
He was silent, nonplussed.
"You see! And just because he has a wife you are disagreeable and proud. You feel you cannot bear to stay with me-"
"I swear I do not!"
"Then why do you refuse?" she triumphed.
"Molly-really, I-" He broke off, laughing. "You little wretch, you leave me nothing to say!"
"Then you will stay, as I ask?"
"You are quite sure-"
"Quite."
"Thank you very much, I will stay. 'Tis monstrous good of you, I vow. When you are tired of me, say so."
"I will," she promised. "Oh, but we shall do famously! How pleased Miles will be! By the way," she continued, airily, "I asked the Miss Beauleighs to honour us on Wednesday, but, unfortunately, they could not. Still, perhaps some other d-"
She stopped, a little frightened, for he was standing before her, gripping her shoulders in a very elder-brotherly fashion.
"Listen to me, Molly. I know that you have discovered that I love Diana, and I know that you think to be very kind and to bring us together. But I tell you that 'twill not be kind at all, only very cruel to us both. If you worry her to come here, I must go. Do you see?"
Molly looked into the stern eyes, and her lip trembled.
"I'm very-sorry!" she faltered.
Jack drew her arm through his once more.
"'Tis nothing to be sorry about; and, indeed, I am very grateful to you for trying to make me happy. But please do not!"
"No, I promise I will not. But-but do you think you are being quite fair to-"
"Molly, tell me this: do you think you are being quite good to disobey your husband?"
The blue eyes were dancing. She smiled doubtfully.
"What do you mean, Jack?"
"Do you tell me that Miles did not expressly forbid you to mention this subject to me?"
She pulled her hand away, her mouth forming a soundless "Oh!"
"Well-well-well, how horrid of you!" she cried, and shook her fist at him. "I'm going now!"
Later, she found her husband in the library, and ran into his arms.
"Do you mind holding me tightly?" she asked. "I've-I've been put in the corner!"
"What?" O'Hara drew her on to his knee.
"Yes-figuratively-by Jack. I think, perhaps, I shouldn't like to marry him after all!"
"What has he done?"
"N-nothing. I'm afraid," polishing one of his buttons with an assiduous finger, "I'm afraid that it was rather my own fault!"
"Oh!"
"Yes-but I only said very little about the Miss Beauleighs, and he suddenly turned into an iceberg and made me feel like a naughty little girl. But he is going to stay, all the same; so kiss me, Miles!"
CHAPTER XVIII ENTER CAPTAIN HAROLD LOVELACE
AT the end of August, after having spent a moderately quiet summer in the country, Lady Lavinia was again seized with a longing for town and its attractions. She would not listen to Richard's warnings of the atrocious condition of the roads, declaring that she cared not one jot, and go to London she must. After that one protest he desisted, and promised to take her there the following week, secretly counting himself lucky to have kept her so long at Wyncham in comparative cheerfulness of spirits. Lavinia was overjoyed, kissed him again and again, scolded herself for being such a wicked tease, and set about making her preparations for the journey.
The roads proved even worse than Richard had prophesied, and twice the coach nearly upset, and times without number stuck fast in the mire, causing the inmates much inconvenience. Carstares rode by the side of the heavy vehicle, in which were his wife, her maid, her tiny dog, and countless bandboxes and small parcels. In spite of the worry the constant stoppages entailed, he quite enjoyed the journey, for Lavinia was in excellent spirits, and made light of their mishaps, receiving each fresh one with roguish laughter and some witty remark. Even when the chimney of her bed-chamber, at one of the inns at which they halted, smoked most vilely, she did not, as Richard quite expected she would, fly into a rage and refuse to spend another moment in the house, but after looking extremely doleful, cheered up and told dear Dicky that she would have his room while he should have hers. Then in the morning she would find him all dried up and smoked! In high good humour she went down to dinner with him, voted the partridges excellent, the pasties quite French, and the wine marvellously tolerable for such an out-of-the-way place, and kept him laughing at her antics until bed-time.
The journey was, of necessity, very slow, not only on account of the bad roads, but because whenever my lady caught sight of wild roses growing on the hedges, she must stop to pluck some. Then she and Richard would stroll along for some way, he leading his horse, the coach following at a walking pace. All of which was very idyllic, and had the effect of sending Richard to the seventh heaven of content.
When at length they arrived at Wyncham House, Mayfair, they found that the servants had arrived a week before, and had made good use of their time. Never, declared Lavinia, had the house looked so inviting-so spick and span.
One of her black pages proffered a small monkey with much bowing and grinning, and the murmur of: "Massa's present."
Lady Lavinia flew to embrace her Dicky. How did he guess that she had for so long yearned for a monkey? Surely she had but once or twice mentioned it? Oh, he was the very best of husbands! She danced off to her apartments in a state of ecstasy.
The beau monde was returning to town, and when, a few days later, Carstares conducted his wife to Ranelagh, they found the gardens fairly crowded and very gay. Lamps hung from tree branches, although it was still quite light; the fiddlers scraped away almost without a pause; fireworks shot up from one end; the summer-houses had all been freshly painted, and the Pavilion was a blaze of light.
Consciousness of her beauty and the smartness of her Georgia silk gown, with its petticoat covered in gold net, considerably added to Lavinia's enjoyment. Her hair she wore powdered and elaborately curled down on both sides with dainty escalloped lace half concealing it, and a grey capuchin over all. Her tippet was gold-laced to match her petticoat, and to fasten it she wore a brooch composed of clustered rubies. Rubies also hung in her earrings, which last were of such length that the other ladies turned to stare in envy, and the bracelets that she wore over her long gloves flashed also with the great red stones. She was well-pleased with Richard's appearance, and reflected that, when he chose, he could be very fashionable indeed. The claret-coloured velvet he was wearing was most distinguished, and the gold clocks to his hose quite ravishing.
They had not been in the Gardens ten minutes before a little crowd of men had gathered around them, professing themselves enraptured to behold the fair Lady Lavinia once more. One of them fetched her a chair, another a glass of negus, and the rest hovered eagerly about her.
Becomingly flushed with triumph, my lady gave her little hand to Mr. Selwyn, who had been once a very ardent admirer, laughed at his neat compliment, and declared that he was a dreadful flattering demon, and positively she would not listen to him!
Sir Gregory Markham, who brought her the negus, she discovered to have just returned from Paris. On hearing this, she broke off in the middle of a conversation with an enchanted French Chevalier and turned to him, raising her china-blue eyes to his face and clasping tight-gloved hands.