V.
As he came within striking distance of 262 Eaton Square he had theadvantage of an unusual and brilliant spectacle.
Lord Woldo was one of the richest human beings in England--andincidentally he was very human. If he had been in a position to realiseall his assets and go to America with the ready money, his wealth wassuch that even amid the luxurious society of Pittsburg he could have cutquite a figure for some time. He owned a great deal of the land betweenOxford Street and Regent Street, and again a number of the valuablesquares north of Oxford Street were his, and as for Edgware Road--justas auctioneers advertise a couple of miles of trout-stream orsalmon-river as a pleasing adjunct to a country estate, so, had LordWoldo's estate come under the hammer, a couple of miles of Edgware Roadmight have been advertised as among its charms. Lord Woldo owned fourtheatres, and to each theatre he had his private entrance, and in eachtheatre his private box, over which the management had no sway. TheWoldos in their leases had always insisted on this.
He never built in London; his business was to let land for others tobuild upon, the condition being that what others built should ultimatelybelong to him. Thousands of people in London were only too delighted tobuild on these terms: he could pick and choose his builders. (Theastute Edward Henry himself, for example, wanted furiously to build forhim, and was angry because obstacles stood in the path of his desire.)It was constantly happening that under legal agreements some fineerection put up by another hand came into the absolute possession ofLord Woldo without one halfpenny of expense to Lord Woldo. Now and thena whole street would thus tumble all complete into his hands. Thesystem, most agreeable for Lord Woldo and about a dozen other landlordsin London, was called the leasehold system; and when Lord Woldo becamethe proprietor of some bricks and mortar that had cost him nothing, itwas said that one of Lord Woldo's leases had "fallen in," and everybodywas quite satisfied by this phrase.
In the provinces, besides castles, forests, and moors, Lord Woldo ownedmany acres of land under which was coal, and he allowed enterprisingpersons to dig deep for this coal, and often explode themselves to deathin the adventure, on the understanding that they paid him sixpence forevery ton of coal brought to the surface, whether they made any profiton it or not. This arrangement was called "mining rights"--anotherphrase that apparently satisfied everybody.
It might be thought that Lord Woldo was, as they say, on velvet. Butthe velvet, if it could be so described, was not of so rich andcomfortable a pile after all; for Lord Woldo's situation involved manyand heavy responsibilities, and was surrounded by grave dangers. He wasthe representative of an old order going down in the unforeseeablewelter of twentieth-century politics. Numbers of thoughtful students ofEnglish conditions spent much of their time in wondering what wouldhappen one day to the Lord Woldos of England. And when a really greatstrike came, and a dozen ex-artisans met in a private room of a West Endhotel and decided, without consulting Lord Woldo, or the Prime Minister,or anybody, that the commerce of the country should be brought to astandstill, these thoughtful students perceived that even Lord Woldo'ssituation was no more secure than other people's; in fact, that it wasrather less so.
There could be no doubt that the circumstances of Lord Woldo furnishedhim with food for thought, and very indigestible food too.... Why, atleast one hundred sprightly female creatures were being brought up inthe hope of marrying him. And they would all besiege him, and he couldonly marry one of them--at once!
Now, as Edward Henry stopped as near to No. 262 as the presence of awaiting two-horse carriage permitted, he saw a gray-haired andblue-cloaked woman solemnly descending the steps of the portico of No.262. She was followed by another similar woman, and watched by a butlerand a footman at the summit of the steps, and by a footman on thepavement, and by the coachman on the box of the carriage. She carried athick and lovely white shawl, and in this shawl was Lord Woldo and allhis many and heavy responsibilities. It was his fancy to take the airthus, in the arms of a woman. He allowed himself to be lifted into theopen carriage, and the door of the carriage was shut; and off went thetwo ancient horses, slowly, and the two adult fat men and the two maturespinsters, and the vehicle weighing about a ton; and Lord Woldo'smorning promenade had begun.
"Follow that!" said Edward Henry to the chauffeur, and nipped into hisbrougham again. Nobody had told him that the being in the shawl was LordWoldo, but he was sure that it must be so.
In twenty minutes he saw Lord Woldo being carried to and fro amid thegroves of Hyde Park (one of the few bits of London earth that did notbelong to him nor to his more or less distant connections) while thecarriage waited. Once Lord Woldo sat on a chair, but the chief nurse'slap was between him and the chair-seat. Both nurses chattered to him inKensingtonian accents, but he offered no replies.
"Go back to 262," said Edward Henry to his chauffeur.
Arrived again in Eaton Square, he did not give himself time to beimposed upon by the grandiosity of the square in general nor of No. 262in particular. He just ran up the steps and rang the visitors' bell.
"After all," he said to himself as he waited, "these houses aren't evensemi detached! They're just houses in a row, and I bet every one of 'emcan hear the piano next door!"
The butler whom he had previously caught sight of opened the greatportal.
"I want to see Lady Woldo."
"Her ladyship--" began the formidable official.
"Now look here my man," said Edward Henry rather in desperation, "I mustsee Lady Woldo instantly. It's about the baby--"
"About his lordship?"
"Yes. And look lively, please."
He stepped into the sombre and sumptuous hall.
"Well," he reflected, "I am going it--no mistake!"