CHAPTER II
_How George Bellew sought counsel of his Valet_
The first intimation Bellew received of the futility of his hopes wasthe following letter which he received one morning as he sat atbreakfast in his chambers in St. James Street, W.
MY DEAR GEORGE--I am writing to tell you that I like you so much that Iam quite sure I could never marry you, it would be too ridiculous.Liking, you see George, is not love, is it? Though, personally, I thinkall that sort of thing went out of fashion with our great-grandmother'shoops, and crinolines. So George, I have decided to marry the Duke ofRyde. The ceremony will take place in three weeks time at St. George's,Hanover Square, and everyone will be there, of course. If you care tocome too, so much the better. I won't say that I hope you will forgetme, because I don't; but I am sure you will find someone to console youbecause you are such a dear, good fellow, and so ridiculously rich.
So good-bye, and best wishes,
Ever yours most sincerely,
SYLVIA.
Now under such circumstances, had Bellew sought oblivion and consolationfrom bottles, or gone headlong to the devil in any of other numerousways that are more or less inviting, deluded people would have pitiedhim, and shaken grave heads over him; for it seems that disappointment(more especially in love) may condone many offences, and cover as manysins as Charity.
But Bellew, knowing nothing of that latter-day hysteria which wears thedisguise, and calls itself "Temperament," and being only a ratherordinary young man, did nothing of the kind. Having lighted his pipe,and read the letter through again, he rang instead for Baxter,his valet.
Baxter was small, and slight, and dapper as to person, clean-shaven,alert of eye, and soft of movement,--in a word, Baxter was the cream ofgentlemen's gentlemen, and the very acme of what a valet should be, fromthe very precise parting of his glossy hair, to the trim toes of hisglossy boots. Baxter as has been said, was his valet, and had been hisfather's valet, before him, and as to age, might have been thirty, orforty, or fifty, as he stood there beside the table, with one eye-browraised a trifle higher than the other, waiting for Bellew to speak.
"Baxter."
"Sir?"
"Take a seat."
"Thank you sir." And Baxter sat down, not too near his master, nor toofar off, but exactly at the right, and proper distance.
"Baxter, I wish to consult with you."
"As between Master and Servant, sir?"
"As between man and man, Baxter."
"Very good, Mr. George, sir!"
"I should like to hear your opinion, Baxter, as to what is the proper,and most accredited course to adopt when one has been--er--crossedin love?"
"Why sir," began Baxter, slightly wrinkling his smooth brow, "so far asI can call to mind, the courses usually adopted by despairing lovers,are, in number, four."
"Name them, Baxter."
"First, Mr. George, there is what I may term, the CourseRetaliatory,--which is Marriage--"
"Marriage?"
"With--another party, sir,--on the principle that there are as good fishin the sea as ever came out, and--er--pebbles on beaches, sir; youunderstand me, sir?"
"Perfectly, go on."
"Secondly, there is the Army, sir, I have known of a good manyenlistments on account of blighted affections, Mr. George, sir; indeed,the Army is very popular."
"Ah?" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe with the aid of thesalt-spoon, "Proceed, Baxter."
"Thirdly, Mr. George, there are those who are content to--to merelydisappear."
"Hum!" said Bellew.
"And lastly sir, though it is usually the first,--there is dissipation,Mr. George. Drink, sir,--the consolation of bottles, and--"
"Exactly!" nodded Bellew. "Now Baxter," he pursued, beginning to drawdiagrams on the table-cloth with the salt-spoon, "knowing me as you do,what course should you advise me to adopt?"
"You mean, Mr. George,--speaking as between man and man of course,--youmean that you are in the unfortunate position of being--crossed in youraffections, sir?"
"Also--heart-broken, Baxter."
"Certainly, sir!"
"Miss Marchmont marries the Duke of Hyde,--in three weeks, Baxter."
"Indeed, sir!"
"You were, I believe, aware of the fact that Miss Marchmont and I wereas good as engaged?"
"I had--hem!--gathered as much, sir."
"Then--confound it all, Baxter!--why aren't you surprised?"
"I am quite--over-come, sir!" said Baxter, stooping to recover thesalt-spoon which had slipped to the floor.
"Consequently," pursued Bellew, "I am--er--broken-hearted, as I toldyou--"
"Certainly, sir."
"Crushed, despondent, and utterly hopeless, Baxter, and shall be,henceforth, pursued by the--er--Haunting Spectre of the MightHave Been."
"Very natural, sir, indeed!"
"I could have hoped, Baxter, that, having served me so long,--not tomention my father, you would have shown just a--er shade more feeling inthe matter."
"And if you were to ask me,--as between man and man sir,--why I don'tshow more feeling, then, speaking as the old servant of your respectedfather, Master George, sir,--I should beg most respectfully to say thatregarding the lady in question, her conduct is not in the leastsurprising, Miss Marchmont being a beauty, and aware of the fact, MasterGeorge. Referring to your heart, sir, I am ready to swear that it is noteven cracked. And now, sir,--what clothes do you propose to wearthis morning?"
"And pray, why should you be so confident of regardingthe--er--condition of my heart?"
"Because, sir,--speaking as your father's old servant, Master George, Imake bold to say that I don't believe that you have ever been in love,or even know what love is, Master George, sir."
Bellew picked up the salt-spoon, balanced it very carefully upon hisfinger, and put it down again.
"Nevertheless," said he, shaking his head, "I can see for myself but thedreary perspective of a hopeless future, Baxter, blasted by the HauntingSpectre of the Might Have Been;--I'll trouble you to push the cigarettesa little nearer."
"And now, sir," said Baxter, as he rose to strike, and apply thenecessary match, "what suit will you wear to-day?"
"Something in tweeds."
"Tweeds, sir! surely you forget your appointment with the Lady CecilyPrynne, and her party? Lord Mountclair had me on the telephone,last night--"
"Also a good, heavy walking-stick, Baxter, and a knap-sack."
"A knap-sack, sir?"
"I shall set out on a walking tour--in an hour's time."
"Certainly, sir,--where to, sir?"
"I haven't the least idea, Baxter, but I'm going--in an hour. On thewhole, of the four courses you describe for one whose life is blighted,whose heart,--I say whose heart, Baxter, is broken,--utterly smashed,and--er--shivered beyond repair, I prefer to disappear--in anhour, Baxter."
"Shall you drive the touring car, sir, or the new racer?"
"I shall walk, Baxter, alone,--in an hour."