CHAPTER IV
IN WHICH LADY MELTON FEELS THAT HER AVERSION IS JUSTIFIED
From what has been said it may be imagined that Mrs. Scarsdale, _nee_Vernon, was an excellent hand at light and amusing conversation; and sopleasantly did she receive the Consul, and so amusingly rally him on theevents of the day, that he scarcely seemed to have been with her aminute, when a slight jolt caused him to look up and out, only toperceive the Basingstoke Station sliding rapidly past the windows.Allingford's first impulse was to dash from the carriage, a dangerousexperiment when one remembers the rapidity with which a light Englishtrain gets under way. In this, however, he was forestalled by Mrs.Scarsdale, who clung to his coat-tails, declaring that he should notdesert her; so that by the time he was able to free himself the trainhad attained such speed as to preclude any longer the question ofescape. The sensations which Mr. Allingford and Mrs. Scarsdaleexperienced when they realised that they were being borne swiftly away,the one from his wife and the other from her husband, may be betterimagined than described. The deserted bride threw herself into thefarthest corner of the carriage and began to laugh hysterically, whilethe Consul plunged his hands into his pockets and gave vent to amonosyllabic expletive, of which he meant every letter.
After the first moments of astonishment and stupefaction both somewhatrecovered their senses, and mutual explanations and recriminations beganforthwith.
"How has this dreadful thing happened?" demanded Mrs. Scarsdale, in avoice quavering with suppressed emotion.
"I'm afraid it's my fault," said Allingford ruefully. "The guard told mewe had ten minutes."
"That was for your division of the train, stupid!" exclaimed the ladywrathfully.
"I didn't know that," explained the Consul, "and so I told your husbandwe had ten minutes, which probably accounts for his being left."
"Then I'll never, never forgive you," she cried, and burst into tears,murmuring between her sobs: "Poor, dear Harold! what will he do?"
"Do!" exclaimed the Consul, "I should think he had done enough, in allconscience. Why, confound him, he's gone off with my wife!"
"Don't you call my husband names!" sobbed Mrs. Scarsdale.
"Well, he certainly has enough of his own, that's a fact."
"If you were a man," retorted the disconsolate bride, "you would dosomething, instead of making stupid jokes about my poor Stanley. I'm adistressed American citizen----"
"No, you're not; you became a British subject when you marriedScarsdale," corrected Allingford.
"Well, I won't be, so there! I tell you I'm an American woman indistress, and you are my Consul and you've got to help me."
"I'll help you with the greatest pleasure in the world. I'm quite asanxious to recover my wife as you can be to find your husband."
"Then what do you advise?" she asked.
"We are going somewhere at a rapid rate," he replied. "When we arrive,we will leave the train and return to Basingstoke as soon as possible.Now do you happen to know our next stop?"
"Yes: Salisbury."
"How long before we get there?"
"About three quarters of an hour."
"That will at least give us time," he said, "to consider what is best tobe done. Have you a railway guide?"
"I think there is a South Western time-table in the pocket of dearMalcolm's coat," she said, indicating a garment on the seat beside her.
"Why don't you call him St. Hubart and be done with it?" queriedAllingford, as he searched for and found the desired paper. "You'vegiven him all his other names."
"I reserve that for important occasions," she replied; "it sounds soimpressive."
Mabel Scarsdale, it will be noticed, was fast regaining her composure,now that a definite course of action had been determined upon. But shecould not help feeling depressed, for it must be admitted that it isdisheartening to lose your husband before you have been married a day.What would he do, she wondered, when he found that the train had gone?Had he discovered its departure soon enough to warn Mrs. Allingford toleave her carriage? and if not, where had she gone, and had heaccompanied her? The event certainly afforded ample grounds forspeculation; but her reverie was interrupted by the Consul, who had beendeeply immersed in the time-table.
"There is no train back to Basingstoke before ten to-night," he said,"so we must spend the evening in Salisbury and telegraph them to awaitour return."
"Possibly my husband may have chased the train and caught the rearcarriage. I have seen people do that," she ventured.
"The guard's van, you mean," he explained. "In that case he istravelling down with us and will put in an appearance directly we reachSalisbury, though I don't think it's likely. However, there's nothing toworry about, and I must beg you not to do so, unless you wish to make memore miserable than I already am for my share in this deplorableblunder."
"You don't think they would follow us to Salisbury?"
"No; that is"--and he plunged into the intricacies of the time-tableonce more--"they couldn't; besides, they would receive our telegrambefore they could leave Basingstoke."
"Could they have gone off on the other train?"
"Impossible," he replied. "By Jove, they neither of them know wherethey are bound for!"
"Quite true," she said, "they do not. We had tickets for Exeter; but asa joke I never let my husband see them."
"We were going to Bournemouth, and here are my tickets," he returned,holding them up, "but my wife doesn't know it."
"You think there is no question that they are waiting for us atBasingstoke?" she asked.
"Not a doubt of it; and so we have nothing to do but kill time till wecan rejoin them, which won't be hard in your society," he replied.
"I'm sorry I can't be so polite," she returned, "but I want my husband,and if you talk to me much more I shall probably cry."
The Consul at this made a dive for an adjacent newspaper, in which heremained buried till the train slowed down for Salisbury.
"I suppose," he said apologetically, as they drew up at theirdestination, "that you won't object to my appropriating Scarsdale'scoat and hat? I dare say he is sporting mine."
A tearful sniff was the only reply as he gathered up the variousimpedimenta with which the carriage was littered, and assisted his fairthough doleful companion to alight. Returning a few moments later fromthe arduous duty of rescuing her luggage, which was, of course, labelledfor Exeter, he found her still alone, there being no sign of Scarsdalein or out of the train, and no telegram for them from Basingstoke--achance on which Allingford had counted considerably, though he had notthought it wise to mention it. Indeed, the fact that no inquiry had beenmade for them puzzled and worried him greatly, for it seemed almostcertain that were their deserted partners still at Basingstoke, theirfirst action would have been to telegraph to the fugitives. However, heput the best face he could on the matter, assured Mrs. Scarsdale thateverything must be all right, and despatched his telegram back to theirpoint of separation. Under the most favourable circumstances they couldnot receive an answer under half an hour, and with this information theConsul was forced to return to the disconsolate bride.
"There is no use in loafing around here," he said. "Suppose we go andsee the cathedral? It will be something to do, and may distract ourthoughts."
"I don't think mine could well be more distracted than they are now,"replied she; "besides, we might miss the telegram."
"Oh, I'll fix that," he returned; "I'll have it sent up after us. Come,you had better go. You can't sit and look at that pea-green engine forthirty minutes; it is enough to give you a fit of the blues."
"Well, just as you please," she said, and they started up into the town,and made their way to the cathedral.
It is not to the point of this narrative to discourse on the beauties ofthat structure; the finest shaft of Purbec marble it contains wouldprove cold consolation to either a bride or a bridegroom deserted on thewedding day. But the cool quiet of the great building seemedunconsciously to soothe their troubled spirit
s, though when they eachrevisited the spot in after years they discovered that it was entirelynew to them, and that they possessed not the faintest recollection ofits appearance, within or without.
At last, after having consulted their watches for the hundredth time,they began to stroll down the great central aisle, towards the mainentrance. Suddenly Mrs. Scarsdale clutched the Consul's arm, and pointedbefore her to where a messenger-boy, with a look of expectancy on hisface and an envelope in his hand, stood framed in a Gothic doorway. Thenthey made a wild, scrambling rush down the church, the bride reachingthe goal first, and snatching the telegram from its astonished bearer.
"For Mr. Allingford," he began, but she had already torn open theenvelope and was devouring its contents.
For a moment the words seemed to swim before her eyes, then, as theirmeaning became clear to her, she gave a frightened gasp, dropped themessage on the floor, sat down hard on the tomb of a crusader, and burstinto tears.
Allingford gazed at her silently for a moment, and meditativelyscratched his head; then he paid and dismissed the amazed boy, andfinally picked up the crumpled bit of paper. It was from thestation-master at Basingstoke, and read as follows:
"_Parties mentioned left in second division for Southampton and South Coast Resorts. Destination not known._"
It was incomprehensible, but he had expected it. If Mr. Scarsdale hadremained at Basingstoke he would certainly have telegraphed them fromthere at their first stop, Salisbury. Evidently he, too, had beencarried away on the train; but where? It was some relief to know thathis wife was not wholly alone, but he did not at all like the idea ofher going off into space with another man, and the fact that he haddone the same thing himself was no consolation. Then his mind revertedto Mrs. Scarsdale, who still wept on the tomb of the crusader. What inthunder was he going to do with her? To get her back to her aunt inLondon at that time of night was out of the question; but where elsecould he take her?
This point, however, was settled at once, and in an unexpected manner,by the lady herself. Drying her eyes, she remarked suddenly: "I'm alittle fool!"
"Not at all," he replied; "your emotion is quite natural under thecircumstances."
"But crying won't get us out of this awful predicament."
"Unfortunately no, or we should have arrived at a solution long ago."
"That," remarked the lady, "is merely another way of making a statementwhich you just now disputed. I _am_ a little fool, and I mean to dry myeyes and attend strictly to business. Tell me exactly what this messageimplies."
"It means," said the Consul, "that it is impossible for you to rejoinyour husband to-night."
Her lip quivered dangerously; but she controlled herself sufficiently toexclaim: "But what are we to do?"
"Well," he replied, "I should advise remaining here. There is a goodhotel."
"But we can't. Don't you see I must not remain--with you?" She spoke thelast words with an effort.
"Yes," he rejoined. "It is awkward; but you can't spend the night in thestreets; you must have somewhere to sleep."
"Let us go back to Basingstoke, then."
"I can't see that that would help matters," he said gloomily; "we wouldhave to spend the night there just the same. Besides, I think it isgoing to rain." They were standing outside the church by this time."No," he continued, "our best course, our only course, in fact, is tostay here to-night, return to Basingstoke to-morrow morning, and waitfor them there. You may be sure they are having quite as bad a time aswe are. If I only knew some one here----"
"Bravo!" she interrupted, clapping her hands, "I believe you have solvedthe problem. Look: do you see that carriage over there? What coat ofarms has it? Quick! your eyes are better than mine."
In the gathering twilight he saw driving leisurely by, with coachman andfootman on the box, a handsome barouche, on the panels of which a coatof arms was emblazoned.
"Well," he said, gazing hard at it, "there is a helmet with a plume,balanced on a stick of peppermint candy----"
"Yes, yes!" she cried, "the crest. Go on!"
"Down on the ground-storey," he continued, "there is a pink shielddivided in quarters, with the same helmet in the north-east division,and a lot of silver ticket-punchers in the one below it."
"Spurs," she interjected.
"Well, perhaps they are," he admitted. "Then there are a couple oftwo-tailed blue lions swimming in a crimson lake----"
"The Melton arms!" she cried. "I looked them up in 'Burke's Peerage'when that old catawampus refused to come to our wedding. We will spendto-night with Lady Diana!"
"But I thought----" began the Consul, when his companion interruptedhim, exclaiming:
"Chase that carriage as hard as you know how, and bring it here!"
Allingford felt that this was a time for action and not for speech. Thedays of his collegiate triumphs, when he had put his best foot foremoston the cinder-track, rose to his mind, and he fled across the green andinto the gathering gloom, which had now swallowed up her ladyship'schariot, with a swiftness that caused his companion to murmur: "Well, hecan sprint!"
Presently the equipage was seen returning with the heated and triumphantConsul inside. It drew up before her, and the footman alighted andapproached questioningly.
"Is this Lady Melton's carriage?" she asked.
"Yes, madam."
"Then you may drive this gentleman and me to Melton Court."
"But, madam----"
"I am Mrs. Scarsdale, Lady Diana's great-niece," she said quietly. Thefootman touched his hat.
"Was her ladyship expecting you? We were sent to meet this next train,but----"
"No, we are here unexpectedly ourselves; but I dare say there will beroom for all, as the carriage holds four."
"There will only be Lord Cowbray, madam, and his lordship may not arrivetill the nine-thirty. If you would not mind driving to the station?"
"It is just what we wish," she replied, and calmly stepped into thecarriage and seated herself by the Consul's side, who was so amazed atthe turn affairs had taken that he remained speechless.
"Shall I see to your luggage, madam?" inquired the footman as they drewup opposite the waiting-room door.
"No," she replied, stepping out on the platform. "We will attend to itourselves; it will only be necessary to take up our hand-bags forto-night."
Accompanied by the Consul she went in search of their belongings, and ather suggestion he took a Gladstone belonging to the absent Scarsdale,and a dressing-case which she designated as her own property.
"I was anxious to have a word alone with you," she said as they emergedonce more on the platform, "and we can't talk on personal matters duringthe drive to the Court. You see my position is a little peculiar."
"Excuse me for asking the question," he replied, "but are your relationswith your husband's great-aunt quite cordial?"
"On the contrary, they are quite the reverse. She detests all Americans,and was very much put out at poor Harold for marrying me. Her refusal tobe present at our wedding was almost an insult," she returned.
"That doesn't seem to promise a pleasant reception at Melton Court," hesaid.
"Far from it; but any port is acceptable in a storm, and she can hardlyrefuse us shelter. After all I've done nothing to be ashamed of inmarrying my husband or being carried off with you."
"Oh, I'll trust you to hold your own with any dowager in the UnitedKingdom; but where do I come in?"
"You are my Consul, and under the circumstances my national protector; Ican't do without you."
"I am not at all sure that her ladyship will see it in that light; but,as you say, it is better than nothing, and our position can't be worsethan it is at present."
"Then it is agreed we stand by each other through thick and thin?"
"Exactly," he replied, and shook her extended hand. At this moment thetrain came in, and they returned to the carriage.
Lord Cowbray did not put in an appearance, and they were soon under wayfor Melton Court, w
hich was some miles distant from the town. By thetime they entered the grounds it was quite dark, and they could only seethat the park was extensive, and that the Court seemed large and gloomyand might have dated from the Elizabethan period.
On entering the central hall they at once saw evidences of a largehouse-party, whose presence did not tend to put them more at their ease,and Mrs. Scarsdale lost no time in sending a message to Lady Melton, tothe effect that her great-niece had arrived unexpectedly and would muchappreciate a few words with her in private.
They were shown into a little reception-room, and the footman returnedshortly to say that her ladyship would be with them soon. After whatseemed an endless time, but was in reality barely fifteen minutes, theirhostess entered. She was a fine-looking woman of sixty or over, with astern, hard face, and a set expression about her thin lips, that bodedlittle good to offenders, whatever their age or sex. She looked herguests over through her gold eye-glasses, and, after waiting a momentfor them to speak, said coldly:
"I think there is some mistake. I was told that my niece wished to seeme."
"I said your great-niece," returned Mrs. Scarsdale.
"Oh, my great-niece. Well? I do not recognise you."
"It would be strange if you did, Lady Melton," returned the bride, "asyou've never seen me. I am the wife of your great-nephew, Harold StanleyMalcolm St. Hubart Scarsdale."
"I do not see your husband present," said her ladyship, directing an icyglare at the unfortunate Consul.
"No," replied her niece, "I've lost him."
"Lost him!"
"Yes, at Basingstoke. He went to speak to a lady in another part of thetrain. I could make it clearer to you, I think, by saying that she wasSir Peter Steele's youngest daughter."
"I never thought of knowing the Steeles when I was in London," commentedher hostess, "but St. Hubart was always liberal in his tastes." A remarkwhich caused the Consul to flush with pent-up wrath.
"Oh, he didn't know her," interjected Mabel, hastening to correct theunfortunate turn which the conversation had taken. "She was thisgentleman's wife."
Her ladyship bowed very, very slightly in the Consul's direction, toindicate that his affairs, matrimonial or otherwise, could have for herno possible interest.
"And that is the last we have heard of them," continued the bride,"except for a telegram from the station-master at Basingstoke, whichsays they went to Southampton----"
"Do I understand you to say," broke in their hostess, betraying thefirst sign of interest she had so far evinced, "that my nephew haseloped with----?"
"No, no!" cried Mrs. Scarsdale, "you do not in the least comprehend thetrue state of affairs," and she poured forth a voluble if disconnectedaccount of their adventures.
"Pardon me," exclaimed the old lady when she had finished, "but what isall this rigmarole? A most surprising affair, I must say, and quiteworthy of your nationality. I was averse to my nephew's marrying youfrom the first; but I hardly expected to be justified on his weddingday."
"In that case," said Mrs. Scarsdale, "the sooner we leave your house thebetter."
"You will do nothing of the sort," replied her great-aunt. "Your comingto me is the only wise thing you have done. Of course you will remainhere till your husband can be found. As for this person----" indicatingAllingford.
"This _gentleman_," said his partner in misfortune, coming to hisrescue, "is Mr. Robert Allingford, United States Consul at Christchurch.As my husband had gone off with his wife, I thought the least I could dowas to take him with me."
"I can hardly see the necessity of that course," commented her hostess.
"Now that I have seen Mrs. Scarsdale in safe hands, I could not think oftrespassing longer upon your hospitality," put in the Consul; but hiscompanion intervened.
"I am not going to be deserted twice in a day!" she cried. "If you go, Igo with you!"
"About that," said her ladyship frigidly, "there can be no question,"and she rang the bell.
"You will conduct this lady and this gentleman," she continued to thefootman who answered her summons, "to the green room and the tower roomrespectively." Then, turning to her unwilling guests, she added: "As mydinner-table is fully arranged for this evening, and my guests are nowawaiting me, you will pardon it if I have your dinner served in myprivate sitting-room. We will discuss your affairs at length to-morrowmorning; but now I must bid you good-night," and with an inclination ofher head she dismissed them from her presence.