CHAPTER IX
THE PRINCIPAL BOY: AN INTERLUDE
I
CAPTAIN LOTTINGAR opened the door of the library and roared up thestaircase--
"Lottie!"
Miss Lottie Lottingar came down. She was an exceedingly handsome youngperson,--what is usually known as "a fine figure of a woman,"--but therewas nothing of the squire's daughter about her, as there should be abouta youthful _chatelaine_ who comes tripping down the shallow oak stairsof a great Elizabethan country house. There is usually something breezy,healthy, and eminently English about such a girl. Lottie, although hercolour was good and her costume countrified enough, smacked of the town.She was undeniably attractive, but in her present surroundings shesomehow suggested a bottle of champagne at a school-treat. She wouldhave made an admirable "Principal Boy" in a pantomime. As a matter offact, she had been one.
Her father led the way into the library, and having shut the door, lit acigarette and leaned against the carved mantelpiece. Lottie sat on atable and swung her legs.
"Where's the Honourable?" inquired the captain.
"Out," said Lottie tersely.
"I know that. Where?"
"Plantations."
"What's he after?"
"Shrimps, I expect," said Miss Lottingar flippantly.
"That will do. We're talking business just now. Showing any signs yet?"
"Lots."
"When will he come to the scratch?"
"Pretty soon, if you and your pals don't mess things."
The gallant captain's brow lowered.
"None of your lip, my girl!" he remarked. "What do you mean--messthings?"
"I mean that you'll have to play carefully if you aren't going to scarehim away."
"Scare him? How?"
"Well, you and the others are a bit out of your depth in this affair.I'll do you the justice, Dad, to admit that in the ordinary way ofbusiness you are a hard nut to crack; but coming the country gentlemanover a man who, though he's a mug, _is_ a country gentleman, is rathermore of a job than your lot can manage comfortably. Look at Jerry!"
"What's wrong with Jerry?"
"Him? It's the first time he's played at being a gamekeeper, and hedoesn't know the rules, that's all."
"How do you know?"
"The Honourable told me. Said it wasn't his business, of course, but hewas afraid my father had got hold of a thoroughly incompetent keeper,and perhaps he ought to be told so--haw!"
The captain snorted.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I advised him," replied his daughter, smiling indulgently, "not tomention it. I said you were rather fond of your own judgment in somethings, and might be offended."
"Well, Jerry does his best," said Lottingar; "but you are right, Lottie,for all that. He'll muck things. You must keep the young fool out of hisway. Can't you take him out for walks, or something?"
"Walks? What excitement!" Miss Lottingar cast up her eyes pathetically.
"Well, you can go motoring with him as soon as we get a chauffeur.That's what I wanted to see you about."
"Who is the chauffeur? One of the--one of your friends?"
"No, worse luck! Every man I can trust is in this business already. Wemust make shift with some absolutely straight fool."
"That'll be a pleasant change," remarked Miss Lottingar.
"It will be all right in the long run," continued her father. "He neednever suspect anything. We can keep him mowing the grass or somethingduring his spare time. And if you can't bring off that proposal within aweek, my girl," he concluded, throwing his cigarette into the grate,"you're not the sort I took you for."
"Give me the motor; I'll do the rest," said Miss Lottie, quiteundisturbed by this direct reference to her virgin affections.
"And for the Lord's sake be quick about it! The expense of all thisflummery is something cruel. There'll be nothing left to divide whenit's all over if you can't--"
"There's somebody coming up the drive," said Lottie, who was gazingindifferently out of the window.
A few minutes later the door was opened by the captain's butler, anelderly gentleman of benevolent appearance. A student of physiognomywould have put him down as a rather eccentric and easily-imposed-uponphilanthropist. (He had made his living almost exclusively out of thisfact for the past thirty years.)
"Young feller to see you, Cap," he announced, having first satisfiedhimself that, saving the presence of the Principal Boy, his employerwas alone.
"About the motor?"
"Yes."
"Show him in."
The butler retired, and presently returned, ushering a young man,squarely built and black of hair, with serious blue eyes and a healthybrown face.
"I came to see if you were still in want of a chauffeur, sir," he saidin reply to the captain's interrogation. "I have been employed at theGresley works."
"I do want a chauffeur" replied the warrior on the hearthrug; "but howam I to know that you will do, my man?"
"If you care to go and put any part of the machinery out of order, Iwill undertake to put it right again; and after that I could take youfor a run in the car."
This sounded direct and business-like, and pleased the captain, and,incidentally, the captain's daughter.
"Well, that's fair enough. Go and have something to eat now, and afterthat you can take Miss Lottingar and myself for a spin. By the way,what's your name?"
"John Armstrong--sir!" said Pip. (He was always forgetting that word.)
"Have you any references?"
"No."
"Could you get any?"
"I might, but I'd rather not."
The captain regarded this blunt young man curiously. He possessed noreferences himself, and he moved in a class of society where such thingswere regarded with pious horror. Pip rather attracted him.
"Never mind them at present," he said, ringing the bell. "If you canhandle the car you will suit me. If you can't, you are worth nothing,and you'll get nothing. Would you be willing to do odd jobs as well?"
"Certainly."
The butler appeared.
"Howard," said the captain, "take this man and give him something to eatin the steward's room, and let me see him again at three o'clock."
Mr. Howard, looking particularly benevolent, led Pip away, and CaptainLottingar was left alone with his daughter.
"He'll do, Lottie, I think," he said carelessly.
"M' yes--he'll do," said Lottie.
Her father turned round.
"You don't seem quite sure. What is it?"
"Nothing. I'm sure enough. Take him."
So the bargain was concluded, and Pip found himself engaged as chauffeurto Captain Cuthbert Lottingar (regiment unknown), of Broadoak Manor,Great Stileborough, Herts.
But Lottie was not sure. She had observed one fact which had escaped herusually astute parent, and that was that the new chauffeur was agentleman--and, as such, a suspicious character. An ordinary mechanicalmechanic would have been harmless; but a gentleman was a superfluity,and therefore a source of danger. But Lottie hesitated to comment on thefact. Wisdom said, "Take no risks"; feminine curiosity said, "Chanceit!" Lottie chanced it, not for the first time in the history ofwomankind.
II
However dubious the impression which the new chauffeur had made uponMiss Lottingar, it is only fair to state that the impression made byMiss Lottingar and her gallant papa upon the new chauffeur was moredubious still. Pip, who was not an expert where women wereconcerned,--only an enthusiastic amateur,--made a mental note thatLottie "looked a good sort, and was a rare pretty girl." Being lessbiassed and more experienced in regard to his own sex, he was nearer themark in his estimate of her father. The fact that Lottie's complexionwas not entirely her own was unrevealed to him, but he did not fail towrite down Captain Lottingar as a "bounder." He observed that hisemployer, though he carefully pronounced "here" "h
eah," not infrequentlycalled "nothing" "nothink"; and Pip still possessed enough regard forthe fetishes of his youth to be conscious of a thrill of positive horrorat the spectacle of a man who wore brown boots with a top-hat on Sunday.
Various guests visited Broadoak,--gentlemen with waxed mustaches andloud garments,--most of whom appeared to be intimate friends ofLottie's. They shot Captain Lottingar's rabbits by day, with indifferentsuccess, and played cards most of the night. Much the most interestingof the guests, however, was the gentleman heretofore referred to as "theHonourable." He was more than a guest at Broadoak,--he was almost one ofthe family. Captain Lottingar slapped him on the back and called him "myboy"; Captain Lottingar's friends addressed him with admiring deferenceand borrowed money from him; and Miss Lottingar behaved to him in amanner which left no doubt in the minds of casual observers as to thestate of her affections.
The Honourable himself was a pleasant but dissipated-looking youth ofabout two-and-twenty. His stature was small, and his attainments, beyondthose indigenous to every well-born and well-bred young Englishman,insignificant; but his appreciation of the pleasures of life was great.He was a good specimen of that type of young man but for whomchorus-girls would be compelled to pay for their own diamonds. Pendingthe arrival of the time when he would be called upon to assume theoffice of an hereditary legislator, he was engaged in what he called"seeing life." He did not see much, though he thought he did, for hisfield of vision was limited; but what he saw he saw thoroughly. Heentertained a great admiration for Captain Lottingar, whom he hadencountered at a flashy club in town; and any fleeting doubts, derivedfrom the hints of experienced and officious friends, which he might haveentertained as to the genuineness of that warrior's pretensions togentility were at once set at rest when he arrived, in response to apressing invitation, on a visit to "my old place in Hertfordshire." Aripening friendship with the Principal Boy was now turning hisadmiration for the name of Lottingar into positive infatuation; andaltogether the Honourable Reginald Fitznorton was in that conditionusually described as "ready for plucking."
Pip, who did not as a rule concern himself overmuch with his neighbours'affairs, soon became conscious of a distinct feeling of curiosity inregard to his present surroundings. Captain Lottingar one day mentionedto the Honourable in his hearing that the family of Lottingar hadinhabited Broadoak Manor, without intermission, from the days of QueenElizabeth,--a statement which Pip found rather hard to reconcile withthe fact that there lay in the garage at the back of the house anotice-board, showing every sign of having been recently uprooted fromthe grassplot by the front gate, inscribed with the simple legend "TOLET." Moreover, one afternoon, while exploring the numerous passages inthe house in search of the Principal Boy's fox-terrier, which he hadbeen bidden to catch and wash, Pip made the discovery that, with theexception of the dining-room, library, kitchens, hall and a fewbedrooms, Broadoak Manor was a warren of empty rooms destitute offurniture, though a few of the more conspicuous windows were furnishedwith curtains.
His fellow-menials also were a curiosity-inspiring crew. Theestablishment, besides Howard, consisted of a not unattractivemiddle-aged female who cooked; a beetle-browed individual named Briggs,the keeper, who, though inclined to be reticent on matters connectedwith that exotic biped, the pheasant, was a mine of information onworldly topics, and a perfect encyclopaedia of reference in regard tohorse-racing; and a pretty but pert maid, who made eyes at Pip, andonce, in a moment of inadvertence, addressed the saintly Howard as "Pa."All were on the best of terms, and sat down to poker in the eveningwith a regularity and cheerfulness which convinced the inexperienced Pipeither that servants' halls were not what he had imagined them to be, orthat adversity had landed him in a very shady establishment.
However, he discovered one refreshing and self-evident truth in thishome of mystery. There was no doubting the fact that the Honourable'scourtship of Miss Lottingar (or Miss Lottingar's courtship of theHonourable, if you happened to live on the other side of the curtain)was fast maturing to a definite conclusion. On numerous motor excursionsPip found himself compelled to combine with his duties as chauffeur thehighly necessary but embarrassing role of gooseberry. Occasionally MissLottingar attempted to drive the car herself, but as a rule Pip hadentire charge, the young people sitting together in close companionshipin the tonneau behind. Occasionally the car would be stopped, and Pipwould be kindly bidden to smoke his pipe, what time the Honourableescorted Miss Lottingar into a neighbouring plantation, to watchhypothetical pheasants feeding; or Miss Lottingar took the Honourable upa by-path, to show him a view which had sprung into existence within thelast five minutes.
Pip, simple soul, knew nothing and cared less about the gentle art ofhusband-hunting. He felt himself irresistibly drawn towards this youngcouple. He abandoned himself to sentimental sympathy, and drove his caror smoked his pipe with his eyes fixed resolutely before him, thinkingof Elsie and wondering if his own turn would ever come.
One day, as they were returning from a long afternoon's spin, the carsuddenly slowed down to a stop, and with the complete and maddeningfinality of its kind refused to move another inch. Pip divested himselfof his coat and disappeared beneath the vehicle, emerging after a briefsupine scrutiny to announce that the necessary repairs would involve theassistance of a blacksmith and take an hour and a half to execute. Thecouple received this announcement with marked composure, and left Pip towrestle with the car, merely bidding him call for them at the "George"at Lindley, two miles ahead, on his way home.
It was dark by the time that the united efforts of Pip and theblacksmith restored the car to a state of kinetic energy, and it wasmore than two hours before Pip called at the "George" for hispassengers. They climbed swiftly into the tonneau, and the car proceededon its way. His charges were unusually silent, and Pip, turning suddenlyto ask for a direction, surprised the Honourable in the act of kissingthe Principal Boy's hands.
The Honourable departed next morning for London. In the afternoon thecar was ordered round, and Miss Lottie announced her intention ofreceiving a driving-lesson. Pip instructed her to the best of hisability, and by constant vigilance and the occasional intervention ofProvidence succeeded in indefinitely prolonging the span of life of twoold women, one cow, seven children, and innumerable cocks and hens.
Presently it began to rain.
"Never mind about putting up the hood, Armstrong," said Lottie. "It's arotten affair--keeps no rain out. Let's run under those thick trees overthere."
Pip took the wheel, and the car slid up a narrow lane and came to anchorunder the thickest part of an arching grove of chestnuts.
"There," said the Principal Boy, removing her gloves, "I feel regularlydone up. My hands are all of a shake after that beastly wheel. Am Iimproving?"
"You are a good deal steadier than you were--Miss," said Pip.
"That's all right. Much obliged for your help. You're a good sort,Armstrong."
"Armstrong" turned extremely pink.
"Look here," continued Lottie breezily, "I'm tired of calling youArmstrong. What's your name?"
"Er--John."
"Right-o! I shall call you Jack. And now, Jack, I want to ask yousomething. What are you doing driving a motor-car?"
"Jack" regarded his mistress with some apprehension.
"Why shouldn't I drive a motor-car?" he asked, rather defiantly.
"Why? Because you're a gentleman. Bless you, dear boy, do you think Ididn't spot that long ago? What was it--debts?"
"Debts" seemed to meet the requirements of the situation without undulystraining the truth, so Pip nodded.
"Ah!" said Miss Lottingar sympathetically; "I know. We have been thatway all our lives in our family."
Pip thought of Broadoak Manor and its present proprietor, and felt nosurprise.
"Dad has lived on his wits ever since I can remember," continued MissLottingar. "I suppose you see what sort of a customer he is?" she added,in a sudden burst of candour.
Pip nodded again. "I think I do," he
said.
"He's a game old chap, is Dad," continued the dutiful daughter, "buthe's on the lowest peg at present. However, I landed the Honourable lastnight, so things ought to look up now."
Pip, who regarded the love of a man for a maid as something rather moresacred than honour itself, fairly gasped at this offhand remark.
"You mean--you are engaged to him?"
"Yes," said the Principal Boy in a matter-of-fact tone. "He asked melast night at the 'George,' when you were tinkering at the car."
"Oh! Congratulations!" said Pip awkwardly.
"Thanks. But all the hard work has to come yet."
"What do you mean?"
"We've landed him. Now we have to skin him!"
After this somewhat unfeeling reference to her intended, Miss Lottie satsilent, evidently wondering whether her sudden liking for the quietchauffeur had not caused her to be a little indiscreet.
Presently Pip said--
"I suppose he has gone to London to tell his father?"
"The Earl? Not much. I made Fitz promise to avoid the old man till Igave him leave. He has gone up to town for the engagement ring. When hegets back to-morrow he is going to write and tell him everything. Thatwill bring his lordship down here double-quick, and we'll settleeverything in one fair, square, up-and-down scrap." Miss Lottingaralmost smacked her lips.
"Will the Earl object, then?"
"Object? My dear boy, look at me!"
Pip looked. He saw a pair of bold black eyes, a very red and entrancingmouth, a _retrousse_ nose, an alluringly dimpled chin, and a good dealof glinting coppery hair. Individually these features were distinctlyattractive, but there was something about the _tout ensemble_ thatsupplied an immediate answer to the owner's extremely frank question.
"You'll know me again," said Miss Lottingar, rather faintly.
"Beg your pardon," said Pip, ungluing his gaze with a jerk. "Bad habitI've got. Yes, perhaps he will object."
"I should think so. 'Fast girl--shady father--with all their goods inthe shop window!' That's what the old man will see, if he's the leastbit less of a fool than his son."
"But," said Pip, "won't he consent if he sees that you really--care foreach other?"
"Afraid he won't see that," said Miss Lottingar composedly.
Pip stared.
"You mean you don't really care for Fitznorton at all?" he said.
"My dear boy, have you _seen_ him?" inquired Lottie plaintively.
"Yes. But--why on earth are you going to marry him?"
"I'm not quite certain that I am," said the Principal Boy coolly.
"But you said you were."
"I said I was engaged to him."
"Sorry! I had an idea it was the same thing," said Pip.
Lottie gazed at him, not without a certain admiration.
"Not quite," she said. "You're a simple old chap, Jack, but I like youfor it; so I'll tell you what we are going to do. When the Earl comesdown here--the day after to-morrow, I expect--Dad and I will interviewhim. Fitz won't be there: I shall send him out into the woods to chaserabbits. Then we shall point out to the old dear that if the engagementis not permitted my heart will be broken."
"Oh!"
"You see?"
"I begin to. What will it cost to repair it?"
"A hundred thousand pounds."
"You value your heart at rather a high figure."
"He can afford the money: it's a mere fleabite to him. He is one of therichest men in England."
"Well?"
"If he agrees, I sign a paper renouncing all claim to Fitz. The Earlwrites a cheque, takes Fitz home in a bandbox, and Dad is on his legsagain. That's all."
"Suppose the Earl doesn't agree?"
"He will. It will be a pill for him, but he doesn't want the family namedragged through the law courts."
"But suppose?"
"Well, if he does, we are ready for him. If he ab-so-lute-ly refuses, Igo to the front door, whistle up Fitz, pop him into this motor, skim offto Lindley, and get married by special licence. Fitz has agreed, and hasthe licence in his pocket now. Then I shall have an even stronger cardto play--do you see?"
"Afraid not. Too deep for me."
"Well, once we're legally married, the old chap will find that as a realwife I am far more expensive to get rid of than before."
"Get rid of?"
"Yes. He wouldn't think of admitting _me_ to his almighty family circle.He would have to ask now what I would take to live apart from Fitz."
"Live apart?"
"Yes."
"And you'd agree?"
"For two hundred thousand--yes."
"My word! You'd leave your husband?"
"Yes. You don't suppose I want to spend all my days with an image likeFitz, do you?"
Lottie threw herself back petulantly in her seat. Presently Pip laid hishand on her arm.
"Don't!" said he.
"Don't what?"
"Don't be drawn into this affair."
"Why not? Seems to me I'm in it pretty thick already."
"You could break it off--at once. It would be the kindest thing to do."
"It would be a blamed silly thing to do," said Miss Lottingar frankly.
"Do you care for him at all?"
"Fitz? Not a rap."
"But--do you like him?"
"Oh, yes! He's a decent little sort."
"Well, just think what it would mean to him if he married you, andthen--found out."
"Um!" said Miss Lottie thoughtfully.
"Besides," continued Pip, following up his advantage, "think ofyourself."
"I usually do," said Lottie.
"Women were never meant for that low-down sort of game," said Pip,getting to the heart of his subject.
Suddenly Lottie blazed out.
"There you go! Women, women, women! I wonder if there was ever a man inthis world that could treat a woman sensibly. Some men--most men--lookupon women as fair game, and treat them accordingly. The others--menlike you--look on them as little pot angels, and shudder when they showthey are made of flesh and blood. Women are human beings, no better andno worse than men, only they don't get the chances men do, Jack. That'sall--human beings! Remember that."
"It's a hard world for women, I know," said Pip, rather staggered bythis outburst. "But some good chap is bound to come along and--er--makeyou happy, and all that. Hasn't there ever been--anybody of that kind?"
"Lots."
"None you cared about, perhaps?"
"Not one. Well, there was one. Jim Lister is his name. He is assistantstage-manager at the Crown Theatre."
"Well?" said Pip hopefully.
"I--I liked him well enough, but we should always have beenpoor--awfully poor--and--"
"If a couple are really fond of each other, nothing else matters adamn," said Pip, with conviction. "Sorry! I mean you might do worse."
Lottie rounded on him.
"There you go again. 'Might do worse!' 'Be thankful for small mercies!'It's a rotten game being a woman, Jack. You are a man and can'tunderstand. But if you'd had as hard a time as I have,--yes, and ifyou'd seen half as much of this world as I have,--you'd be gentler withme, Jack."
Certainly the conversation was taking an unexpected turn. Pip wascompletely out of his depth. Ten minutes ago he had been a respectfulchauffeur, teaching a rather flamboyant young mistress how to drive acar. Now he was sitting by the selfsame young mistress, holding her armin a friendly fashion, and talking to her as an elder brother might talkto a petulant child.
The irregularity of the situation apparently struck Miss Lottingar atthe same moment, for, with one of those swift and characteristicallyfeminine changes of mood which leave mere man toiling helplessly behindin the trammels of logical consistency, she abruptly released her arm,observed brightly that the rain had ceased, wondered if it wouldn't turnout a fine evening after all, and bade Armstrong drive home as fast aspossible.
III
The Honourable Reginal
d Fitznorton was due back at four o'clock nextafternoon. The motor was ordered round, and Pip drove Lottie to thestation to meet him. Lottie, who was looking pale and not quite herself,declined to sit in the tonneau, and accompanied Pip on the front seat.In spite of the facilities for conversation afforded by this positionshe said little; and Pip, whose repertory of conversational openings wasnot extensive, said nothing at all. Besides, he was not certain whetherhe was to be treated to-day as a big brother or as a chauffeur.
Had he been a more observant big brother or a less diligent chauffeur hemight have noticed that from time to time he was being favoured by hismistress with a sidelong scrutiny of some intensity. Being Pip, he sawnothing. One act of hers might have afforded him a good deal ofinformation had he desired it. When the car, which had started late,rounded the last corner on the way to the station, there appeared in theoffing no less a person than the Honourable himself, bag in hand, anddiffusing happiness around him. Suddenly Pip became conscious ofsomething. The girl at his side seemed to shrink up to him, and for amoment her hand travelled towards his as if for protection. An instantlater she was leaning back in her seat, smilingly dipping an answeringpennant to the frenzied signals of her rapidly approaching swain.
The car slowed down to a stop. Miss Lottingar stepped out, and wasreceived by her enraptured lover, regardless of Pip's presence, with asmacking salute that fairly drowned the noise of the engine. After thatthe happy couple entered the tonneau, and Pip, with eyes rigidly turnedto the front, heard little and saw nothing of them throughout the drivehome.
As the Principal Boy had confidently predicted, the Right Honourable theEarl of Cartavon arrived at Broadoak Manor at lunch-time next day. Theinmates of that venerable pile were ready for him. Howard, looking likea retired archbishop, received him at the door, and Captain Lottingar,in tweeds and gaiters, greeted him in the library. His lordship wasaffably informed that, in consequence of recent surprising and joyfuldisclosures by the young folk, his visit was not altogether unexpected;and that if he would join the house-party at luncheon, the business onwhich he had come down might be comfortably discussed over a cigar inthe library afterwards.
This much was retailed in the servants' hall by Howard, whosewell-formed ears had missed little or nothing of the dialogue in thelibrary, even in a filtered form. Mr. Briggs opined, amid generalapproval, that "the Captain and the gal between them could bleed the oldtoff proper."
After lunch the Honourable emerged from the front door, armed only witha walking-stick, and set out briskly, apparently on a country walk. Atthe same time word was sent to Pip that the motor would be required atthree.
Punctually to time he ran the car up the broad avenue, passing thelibrary windows on the way. He was conscious of a group of three roundthe fire,--it was a chilly day in late September,--and he wondered howthe process of bleeding was getting on.
The car and its driver stood before the front door for more than anhour. It was after four when the front door suddenly opened, and Lottie,banging it behind her, hurriedly descended the steps. She slipped upbeside Pip.
"Start off," she said--"quick!"
Pip got down and set the engine going.
"Where to?" he inquired.
"Anywhere!" said Lottie in a choking voice, "anywhere! But get started."
Pip sprang up into his place and took the wheel. The great car ceasedvibrating and began to creep forward. Suddenly it gave a mighty plunge,and sped down the avenue.
At the same moment Captain Lottingar, looking anything but a countrygentleman, and furiously angry, threw open the library window and bawledto Pip to stop. But the louder he bawled and the more thoroughly heblasphemed the faster the car shot down the drive.
Lord Cartavon sat stiffly in a high-backed chair by the fire.
"I shouldn't trouble if I were you, Captain--er--Lottingar," he said."She won't come back."
Captain Lottingar banged down the window, and, returning to hisfavourite position on the hearthrug, summed up his daughter's characterin terms which would have been excessive if applied to Jezebel herself.
The Earl stood up.
"Sir," he said, "I am obliged to you for your hospitality. I will walkto the station now, and catch the five-thirty train back to town. Ipresume, after what has just happened, that we may regard this incidentas closed. And let me tell you, Mr. Lottingar," the old gentleman added,turning on his heel as he opened the door, "that Miss Lottingar is ad----d sight too good a daughter for such a shark as yourself."
After he had gone, Captain Lottingar kicked a valuable Japanesefire-screen (for which he had not paid) round the room.
IV
On clearing the lodge-gates Pip turned the car to the left, and theyspun down the London road. For an hour they travelled, sometimes slowingthrough a village or changing gear up a hill, but usually running at topspeed, rolling up the miles like shavings under a jack-plane. Pip satgripping his wheel, intent on his work. Lottie, rigid and uprightbeside him, looked straight before her, with her hands clasped tightlytogether under the rug. Occasionally she cast a sidelong glance at hersilent companion.
At last, when they had covered nearly thirty miles, Lottie spoke.
"Jack, I want to talk to you. Stop this machine in some quiet place.That beastly engine makes too much noise for me."
Pip, who was getting used to these wayside halts, ran the car up thenext opening and stopped.
Then the two turned and regarded each other. A glance apprised Pip ofthe fact that he was to be big brother again.
"Well?" he said.
"Jack, I've done it this time."
"Done what?"
"Upset the apple-cart. Poor old Dad! But I'd do it again!"
"How did you do it the first time?" said Pip patiently.
"Well, I'll tell you. After lunch, Dad and I and his lordship went intothe library. We all sat down, the old gentleman very stiff and upright.He had hardly given me a glance so far, but now he turned and looked atme. I felt pretty small, Jack. I can hold my own in a staring match withmost people, but that proud old man fairly beat me. He simply lookedright through me at the cushion my head was leaning against. By the way,you can do that a bit, too, Jack. It's a trick some men have. That'swhat first made me think that you--where was I?"
"In the library."
"Oh, yes. Well, at last the old man turned to Dad, and looked at _him_.Dad didn't half like it, I could see. The old man said--
"'I understand that my son proposes to ally himself with--er,--thisyoung lady?'
"'Yes,' said Dad, 'he does.'
"'And you have given your consent to the match?'
"'Yes', says Dad, as solemn as a judge; 'after due consideration, Ihave.'
"'Then I may as well tell you at once,' says his lordship, quitebriskly, 'that I am utterly and entirely opposed to the match, and willnever give my consent to it.'
"There was a little silence, and we all three settled down in our chairsas much as to say, 'Now we are really getting to business.' PresentlyDad said,--
"'I am afraid, my lord, that solemn agreements of this kind are not soeasily broken. Consider my daughter's feelings.'
"'I am perfectly willing to consider her feelings, sir,' says the oldgentleman, with a little odd bow. Then he turned to me and said,--
"'May I ask a direct question? Are you genuinely attached to my son?'
"I wished he wouldn't keep on at me like that. However, I had to keep myend up, so I said, in a sort of soft voice, 'Yes.'
"'Ah,' said he, as if he was thinking. Then Dad, evidently consideringwe were wasting time, put in,--
"'If this match is broken off, my daughter's susceptibilities must besolaced in a very substantial manner.'
"Then the old gentleman turned and looked Dad through and through, andsaid, 'Ah!' again, as much as to say, 'I thought so.'
"'Well,' he said at last, 'how much do you want?'
"'_I_?' says Dad, still playing the game--'nothing. _I_ am not theinjured part
y. It is for my poor girl to say.'
"The Earl looked at me. I took a big breath, and said, 'A hundredthousand pounds.'
"'You value your heart at rather a high figure, madam,' says he. (Do youremember, those were the very words _you_ used to me, Jack?) Then heswings round to Dad, and says,--
"'Of course this is preposterous. I am willing to pay you five thousandpounds, to extricate my son from the trap, the carefully baitedtrap'--he looked all round the room, and I _knew_ he knew everything init had been got on the nod--'into which he has fallen. That is more thanyou would get out of the most impressionable jury, and I advise you totake it, Mr.--er--Lottingar.'
"'Quite true, my lord,' says Dad. 'But you know you'd give more than ahundred thousand to keep the family name out of the courts. You don'twant the papers to get hold of it. "A Cabinet Minister's son sued forBreach-of-Promise"--you know the sort of stuff--and Lottie's portrait in"The Sketch."'
"'I am afraid we are wasting time, Mr. Lottingar,' says his lordship.'If your daughter will sign a document, which I will draw up for her,renouncing all claims to my son, and undertaking not to molest him forthe future, I will give her a cheque for five thousand pounds. If not, Imust bid you good-afternoon.'
"'A hundred thousand!' says Dad.
"'I think you are acting foolishly,' says the old man, getting up. 'Ifyou refuse my offer I shall go up to town now, and call on my solicitorto-morrow morning; and I think it highly probable, from what I see ofyour surroundings here, and from what I know of your antecedentsalready, that I shall be able to make it exceedingly risky for you toface the publicity of the law courts in any capacity whatsoever. Infact, I should not be surprised if you had to leave the country.'
"My word, Jack, he was fine! He dropped each word out of his mouth likea little lump of ice. But old Dad stood up to him. He simply chuckled.
"'No, no, my lord, it won't do,' he said. 'I have laid my plans fartherahead than you think. Now, look here. If you don't sign that littlecheque I'm asking for, Lottie here will walk straight out of this house,take her motor, pick up your son, who is waiting for her at the roadsidethis minute, and drive straight to Lindley, where they will be marriedby special licence this very afternoon. Your son has got that licence inhis pocket now. And when the two are firmly tied up, you'll realise twothings, my lord,--first, that it's hardly the thing to rake up the pastlife of your daughter-in-law's father; and secondly, that a wife is adeal more expensive to buy off than a _fiancee_.'
"After that there was a _very_ long pause. Dad was top dog again, andthe old Earl was thinking it out. Suddenly he turned to me. He said,--
"'You say my son has a special licence in his pocket?'
"'Yes,' I said.
"'And you have asked him to wait by the roadside for you this afternoon,in case of--contingencies?'
"'Yes.'
"'You must possess great influence over him.'
"'She does,' says Dad, before any one else could speak.
"The old man took not the slightest notice, but went on talking to me.
"'If you married my son you would demand a large sum--'
"'Two hundred thousand quid,' says Dad.
"'You would demand a large sum,' goes on the Earl, acting as if he and Iwere alone together, 'as a condition of your living apart from him andrefraining from molesting him. Would you?'
"The words began to stick in my throat a bit, but I said, 'Yes.'
"'I think,' he went on, 'that you told me just now that you were deeplyattached to my son?'
"This time I just nodded.
"'Then you mean to say,' he says, looking at me in a way that simplymade me feel faint, 'that you would marry a young man whom you professto love, and, having blackmailed him to the fullest possible extent,would readily consent to live apart from him, leaving him prevented bythe law of the land from ever taking a wife of his own station andfulfilling his duty to society and posterity, so long as you remainedalive? For the sake of a sum of money you would deliberately wreck thelife of a foolish but good-hearted young man, who has paid you thehighest honour that a man can pay a woman; and with his life you wouldwreck the fortunes of an ancient and honourable house? Would you dothat?"
"His face was like iron, Jack, but there were tears in his eyes. I satgripping the arms of my chair. Suddenly Dad struck in,--
"'Come, come, my lord! you are simply wasting words. Which is it to be?Will you settle this matter, or must Lottie take the final step?'
"The old man said nothing, but looked at me. And then suddenly I foundmy voice. I boiled over, for I had realised at last what an awful thingI was going to do--awful for him, and awful for me. Somehow I didn'tfeel as if I could back Dad any longer. It flashed across me what I hadbeen trying to do--sell myself! I'm not a great saint, Jack, but, thankGod! I realised in time that there are things in this world that moneycan't buy. I just stood up and said,--
"'Dad, it's no good. I simply won't do this. I can't think why I everconsented. I'm sorry. I've always backed you up to now; but I'm a decentgirl after all, and I _won't_ do this--I _won't_, I _won't_.'
"Then I sat down and cried a bit. Dad looked perfectly flummoxed. In aminute I had dried my eyes, and I said to the old lord,--
"'Lord Cartavon, I wouldn't marry your son if you begged me on yourknees. I won't marry a man I don't love, so I won't marry _him_. Keepyour cheque-book in your pocket. I renounce all claims to him--there!'"
Lottie's voice broke at last.
"Oh, well done!" said Pip softly.
"That's just what the old lord said," exclaimed the girl, turning asurprised look upon him. "You both seem to have the same feelings."
"Well, what happened next?" inquired Pip.
"Things were a bit mixed after that," said Lottie, not without relish."There was a great roar like thunder, and Dad dashed across the room atme. He was in an awful passion. He nearly killed me once, when he--nevermind that. But the old Earl just stepped in front of him and said,'Gently, sir, gently! there is a lady present.' Then he went quickly tothe door and opened it, and gave me a little nod to go. All the time hewas holding Dad's arm with his other hand. I walked out, and the old manbowed to me as I passed, and said, very gently, 'God bless you, younglady!' He said that--to me!" she reiterated proudly, turning a pair ofshining eyes on Pip. "Then he closed it behind me just as Dad brokeinto another roar. I rushed out of the house, hopped on to the car, andhere we are!"
V
"And what are you going to do now?" inquired practical Pip.
"I don't know, I daren't go back. Dad would kill me."
The girl shuddered, and turned to Pip appealingly, as a woman, howeverstrong her will may be, always turns to a man she knows she can trust.
Pip reflected in his deliberate fashion.
"You had better go to London," he said at last. "You know your way aboutthere, I expect. I think you should go on the stage again. You like it,and it will make you independent. I suppose you can get an engagement?"
"Yes, I can manage that," said the Principal Boy. "Drive on now, Jack,and take me to Hunsford Station. It can't be more than a mile or twofrom here."
Once more the car sped through the gathering darkness.
"I'll go round to the 'Crown,'" continued Lottie more briskly, "firstthing to-morrow morning. Jim Lister will get me a shop of some sort, ifit's only in the chorus. That'll do to go on with."
"He must be a good chap," said Pip.
"He is," said Lottie warmly.
Presently they reached the little station. Inquiries elicited the newsthat there would be a train for London in half an hour.
"I'll stay with you till it starts," said Pip.
He ran the car under a wall out of the wind, and continued talking. Hewas in an unusually communicative mood, for him.
"I was wondering," he said, "why your feelings changed so suddenly inthat interview, after you had quite made up your mind to--for the otherthing."
"Don't know, I'm sure," said Lottie.
"I can't think now what made meagree to the idea, even for a moment. Jack, would you have thought_very_ badly of me if--"
"I think I know what it was," continued Pip, who had been following hisown train of thought; "you must have been kee--fond of somebody else allthe time, fonder than you really knew, and when the critical momentcame, the thought of--of him, though you didn't know it, prevented youfrom making yourself cheap. Is that it? Don't answer if it isn't a fairquestion."
"Yes, Jack, it's a fair question."
"And am I right?"
There was a silence. Pip saw a rather strange look settle on the girl'sface. Presently she answered, in a low voice,--
"I believe you are."
"Then why not--go to him?"
"Perhaps--perhaps he doesn't want me."
"Are you sure? Is it Jim Lister?"
"No. He's a good boy, but it's not him."
"Ah! That's a pity."
Another pause. Lottie sat very still. She understood now why the idea ofmarrying the Honourable had become suddenly repugnant to her. The reasonwas sitting beside her, wondering what the reason could be. Lottieexcelled in woman's favourite pastime--playing with fire--but this timeshe had burnt her fingers.
Pip talked to her a good deal during the next half-hour. Once he said,--
"I wonder what made you confide in me about all this. I expect it wasbecause you spotted that I was a kindred spirit--in the same state asyourself."
"What state?"
"In love," said Pip simply.
"In love? Who with?" asked Lottie, ungrammatically but earnestly.
"I'll tell you if you like," said Pip. He launched into a description ofElsie, reciting his hopes and fears with all the complete _abandon_ ofthe reticent man when once he lets himself go.
"It isn't often," he concluded, descending to earth again, "that Ireveal my feelings to anybody. But I suppose things are rather out ofthe common to-day."
"Does she care for you?"
"I don't see how she possibly can," said Pip, with absolute sincerity."But I'm going to ask her for all that."
"When?"
"As soon as I get on my legs again--financially."
"Ah, but when will that be? Debts are awful millstones, Jack."
"Debts? What? Oh, I forgot. Well, they are off."
"How?"
"This morning," said Pip, "I got a letter. It was from old Gresley, thehead of the Motor Works where I am employed. His son used to be a friendof mine at Cambridge. The old man's letter is the most astonishingaffair. He offers to take me into partnership! He seems to--to havetaken a sort of liking for me," he added apologetically. "Isn't it likea fairy tale?"
(What old Gresley had said was this: "Partly because you have alwaysbeen a good friend to my son, but chiefly because you combinefirst-class mechanical ability with sound common sense and the power ofmanaging men, I write to ask if you will enter the firm as a partner, onequal terms with Harry. He has brains and you have ballast. Betweenyou, you should sweep the board. I am getting old. Once the business isfairly gripped by you, I shall retire and leave you to run the showtogether. Give up your present post and come here at once, so that wemay discuss matters more fully and settle details.")
"Then you'll be rich again?" said Lottie wonderingly.
"Well enough off, at any rate," said Pip, "to go and have it out--"
"With _her_?"
"Yes. Here's your train. I'll get your ticket."
Pip put the Principal Boy into an empty first-class carriage, and havingshut the door conversed with her through the open window. The enginegave an impatient whistle, but the line was not clear, and thestarting-signal remained obstinately red.
"Got any money?" said Pip awkwardly.
"Yes, thanks. Enough to keep me going."
The train still delayed, and Pip said,--
"I say, will you take my advice?"
"Depends on what it is."
"Go to Jim Lister."
"Well--I'll see," said the girl rather brokenly. She had borne upbravely till now, but the prospect of parting from her protector and thecoming plunge into the unknown were telling their tale. Suddenly shelooked up.
"Jack," she whispered, "come with me!"
The two gazed at each other steadily. Never was there a more directinvitation, and no man knows what thoughts passed through Pip's heart,or how great the battle that was fought and won during that briefminute. At length he spoke.
"I am still your father's paid servant, and until I have seen him andthrown up my billet I must stay here."
Lottie bowed her head submissively. She knew her man.
"But I'll tell you what," continued Pip. "To-morrow I shall be in town.If you _still_ want help, send a line to me at the Oxford and CambridgeClub, and I'll come to you."
"You promise?"
"I promise. But _you_ must promise not to write unless you really needme."
Lottie, a little mystified, agreed.
Suddenly the red signal-light turned to green. The guard at the rear ofthe train broke off an engrossing conversation with the only porter, andwaved his lantern. The engine gave a preliminary quiver.
Lottie and Pip shook hands. The girl's eyes were full of tears. PoorPrincipal Boy! Kindness which asked for nothing in return had been ararity in her life. Suddenly she said,--
"Give us a kiss, Jack!"
Pip complied, with a satisfactory thoroughness that elicited a humorousexpostulation from the only porter, who was passing by.
"Good-bye!" he said. "You'll be all right when you get to King's Cross."
Which cryptic remark was the last he ever addressed to the PrincipalBoy, for the train glided out of the station, and he never saw heragain.
* * * * *
Before leaving the station Pip despatched the following telegram:--
_Lister, Crown Theatre, Strand, London._
Arriving King's Cross 7.30. Can you meet me? Want help badly.
LOTTIE.
The following morning, having discarded his chauffeur's attire anddeparted from Broadoak Manor, after listening to an eloquent and mostenjoyable valedictory address from its tenant, Pip returned to London.At the end of a highly satisfactory interview with the Gresleys heturned his steps in the direction of the Oxford and Cambridge Club,which he had not entered for three years.
He made himself known to those in authority, and announced that he hadnow returned from "abroad." He then asked if there was any letter for"Armstrong," which, he explained rather lamely, had been sent him underthat name, "by mistake."
Yes, there was a note left by a messenger that afternoon. He opened it.It contained a single line--
All's well; and we thank you--_both_ of us!
LOTTIE LISTER.
BOOK THREE
THE JOURNEY'S END