“My dear Charles, I assure you this is an excess of sensibility!” Miss Wraxton said soothingly. “You are not to be held accountable for the behavior of your brothers!”
“You are wrong, Eugenia. I am six years older than Hubert, and since I knew — none better — that my father would never concern himself with any one of us, it was my duty to take care of the younger ones! I do not scruple to say this to you, for you know how we are circumstanced!”
She replied without hesitation, “I am persuaded you have always done your duty! I have seen how you have tried to introduce into your father’s household more exact standards of conduct, a greater notion of discipline and of management. Hubert can have been in no doubt of your sentiments upon this occasion, and to condone his behavior — which I must think quite shocking — would be most improper. Miss Stanton-Lacy’s intervention, which was, of course, meant in the kindest way, sprang from impulse and cannot have been dictated by her conscience. Painful though it might have been to her, there can be no doubt that it was her duty to have told you the whole, and immediately! To have paid off Hubert’s debts in that fashion was merely to encourage him in his gaming propensities. I fancy that a moment’s reflection must have convinced her of this, but, alas, with all her good qualities, I fear that Miss Stanton-Lacy is not much given to the indulgence of rational thought!”
He stared at her, an odd expression in his eyes which she was at a loss to interpret. “If Hubert had confided in you, Eugenia, would you have come to me with his story?” he asked.
“Undoubtedly,” she replied. “I should not have known an instant’s hesitation.”
“Not an instant’s hesitation!” he repeated. “Although it was a confidence made in the belief that you would not betray it?”
She smiled at him. “That, my dear Charles, is a great piece of nonsense. To be boggling at such a thing as that when one’s duty is so plain is what I have no patience with! My concern for your brother’s future career must have convinced me that I had no other course open to me than to divulge his wrongdoing to you. Such ruinous tendencies must be checked, and since your father, as you have said, does not concern himself with — ”
He interrupted her without apology. “These sentiments may do honor to your reason but not to your heart, Eugenia! You are a female; perhaps you do not understand that a confidence reposed in you must — must — be held sacred! I said that I wished she had told me, but it was untrue! I could not wish anyone to betray a confidence! Good God, would I do so myself?”
These rapidly uttered words brought a flush to her cheek; she said sharply, “I collect that Miss Stanton-Lacy — I presume she is also a female — does understand this?”
“Yes,” he replied, “she does. Perhaps that is one of the results of her upbringing! It is an excellent one! Perhaps she knew what must be the result of her action; perhaps she only went to Hubert’s rescue from motives of generosity. I don’t know that; I have not inquired of her! The outcome has been happy — far happier than would have been the case had she divulged all to me! Hubert is too much of a man to shelter behind his cousin; he confessed the whole to me!”
She smiled. “I am afraid your partiality makes you a trifle blind, Charles! Once you had discovered that Miss Stanton-Lacy had sold her jewelry you were bound to discover the rest! Had I not been in a position to apprise you of this circumstance, I wonder if Hubert would have confessed?”
He said sternly, “Such a speech does you no credit! I do not know why you should be so unjust to Hubert, or why you should so continually wish me to think ill of him! I did think ill of him, and I have been proved wrong! Mine has been the fault; I treated him as though he were still a child and I his mentor. I should have done better to have taken him into my counsels. None of this would have happened had he and I been better friends. He said to me, had we been better acquainted — ! You may judge of my feelings upon hearing that from my brother!” He gave a short laugh. “A leveler indeed! Jackson himself could not have floored me more completely!”
“I fear,” said Miss Wraxton, at her sweetest, “that if you mean to use boxing cant I can never hope to understand you, Charles. No doubt your cousin, with her superior knowledge, would appreciate such language!”
“I should not be at all surprised!” he retorted, nettled.
Not all her training could prevent her saying, “You seem to cherish an extraordinary regard for Miss Stanton-Lacy!”
“I?” he ejaculated, thunderstruck. “For Sophy? Good God! I thought my sentiments toward her were sufficiently well known! I wish to heaven we were rid of her, but I suppose I need not be so prejudiced as to be blind to her good qualities!”
She was mollified. “No, indeed, and I hope I am not either! What a pity it is that she will not entertain Lord Bromford’s suit! He is an excellent man, with a good understanding and such sobriety of judgment as must, I fancy, exercise a beneficial effect upon any female.” She saw that he was looking at her with a good deal of amusement, and added, “I had thought that you were inclined to encourage his suit?”
“It is nothing to me whom Sophy marries!” he said. “She would never take Bromford, though! Well for him!”
“I am afraid Lady Bromford feels as you do,” Miss Wraxton said. “She and Mama are acquainted, you know, and I have had some conversation with her on this subject. She is a most excellent woman! She has been telling me of the delicacy of Lord Bromford’s constitution and of her fears for him. I could not but feel for her! One cannot but agree with her that your cousin would never make him a good wife!”
“The very worst!” he said, laughing. “God knows why such a fellow should have taken it into his head to fall in love with Sophy! You may imagine how Cecilia and Hubert roast her over it! As for the tales they make up of his adventures in the West Indies, even my mother has been thrown into whoops! He is the most absurd oddity!”
“I cannot agree with you,” she said. “And even though I did, I could not listen with, anything but pain to a man’s sensibility being made a mock of.”
This reproof had the effect of making Mr. Rivenhall recollect an engagement in the neighborhood which necessitated his instant departure. He had never before found himself so little in accord with his betrothed.
On the other hand, never before had he been in such charity with his cousin, a happy state of affairs that lasted for very nearly a week. It inspired him to gratify an expressed wish of hers to see Kemble act. While making no secret of the fact that he found the great player’s affectations insupportable, his odd mispronunciations ruining his most brilliant histrionic flights, he took a box at Covent Garden, and escorted Sophy there, with Cecilia and Mr. Wychbold. Sophy was a trifle disappointed in an actor of whom she had heard so much praise, but the evening passed very agreeably, ending at the fashionable hotel in Henrietta Street, known as the Star. Here, Mr. Rivenhall, proving himself to be an excellent host, had ordered a private dining room, and a most elegant supper. His mood was so amiable as even to preclude his making a slighting remark about Kemble’s acting. Mr. Wychbold was chatty and obliging, Cecilia in her best looks, and Sophy lively enough to set the ball of conversation rolling gaily at the outset. In fact, Cecilia said, when she later bade her brother good night, that she had not been so much diverted for months.