CHAPTER II
Lady Letitia Thursford, the only unmarried daughter of the Marquis,stood in a corner of the spacious drawing-room at 94 Grosvenor Square,talking to her brother-in-law. Sir Robert, although he wanted hisluncheon very badly and, owing to some mistake, had come a quarter ofan hour too soon, retained his customary good nature. He alwaysenjoyed talking to his favourite relation-in-law.
"I say, Letty," he remarked, screwing his eyeglass into his eye andlooking around, "you're getting pretty shabby here, eh?"
Lady Letitia smiled composedly.
"That is the worst of you _nouveaux riches_," she declared. "You donot appreciate the harmonising influence of the hand of Time. Thisisn't shabbiness, it's tone."
"_Nouveaux riches_, indeed!" he repeated. "Better not let your fatherhear you call me names!"
"Father wouldn't care a bit," she replied. "As for this drawing-room,Robert, well, sixty years ago it must have been hideous. To-day Irather like it. It is absolutely and entirely Victorian, even to thesmell."
Sir Robert sniffed vigorously.
"I follow you," he agreed. "Old lavender perfume, ottomans,high-backed chairs, chintzes that look as though they came out of theark, and a few mouldy daguerreotypes. The whole thing's here, allright."
"Perhaps it's just as well for us that it is," she observed. "I havecome to the conclusion that furniture people are the least trustful inthe world. I don't think even dad could get a van-load of furniture oncredit."
Sir Robert nodded sympathetically. He was a pleasant-looking man, alittle under middle age, with bright, alert expression, black hair andmoustache, and perhaps a little too perfectly dressed. He just escapedbeing called dapper.
"Chucking a bit more away in the Law Courts, isn't he?"
Letitia indulged in a little grimace.
"Not even you could make him see reason about that," she sighed. "Heis certain to lose his case, and it must be costing him thousands."
"Dashed annoying thing," Sir Robert remarked meditatively, "to have acottage within a hundred yards of your hall door which belongs to someone else."
"It is annoying, of course," Letitia assented, "but there is no doubtwhatever that Uncle Christopher made it over to the Vonts absolutely,and I don't see how we could possibly upset the deed of gift. I amnow," she continued, moving towards a stand of geraniums and beginningto snip off some dead leaves, "about to conclude the picture. Youbehold the maiden of bygone days who condescended sometimes to makeherself useful."
The scissors snipped energetically, and Sir Robert watched hissister-in-law. She was inclined to be tall, remarkably graceful in afashion of her own, a little pale, with masses of brown hair, and eyeswhich defied any sort of colour analysis. But what Sir Robert chieflyloved about her were the two little lines of humour at the corners ofher firm, womanly mouth.
"Yes, you're in the setting all right, Letty," he declared, "and yetyou are rather puzzling. Just now you look as though you only wantedthe crinoline and the little curls to be some one's grandmother in heryouth. Yet at that picture show the other night you were quite themost modern thing there."
"It's just how I'm feeling," she confided, with a little sigh, standingback and surveying her handiwork. "I have that rare gift, you know,Robert, of governing my personality from inside. When I am in thisroom, I feel Victorian, and I am Victorian. When I hear that Russianman's music which is driving every one crazy just now--well, I feel andI suppose I look different. Here's Meg coming. How well she looks!"
They watched the motor-car draw up outside, and the little business ofLady Margaret Lees's descent carried out in quite the best fashion. Afootman stood at the door, a grey-haired butler in plain clothesadventured as far as the bottom step; behind there was just thesuggestion of something in livery.
"Yes, Meg's all right," Sir Robert replied. "Jolly good wife she is,too. Why don't you marry, Letty?"
"Perhaps," she laughed, leaning a little towards him, "because I didnot go to a certain house party at Raynham Court, three years ago."
"Are you conceited enough," he inquired, "to imagine that I should havechosen you instead of Meg, if you had been there?"
"Perhaps I should have been a little too young," she admitted. "Whyhaven't you a brother, Robert?"
"I don't believe you'd have married him, if I had," he answeredbluntly. "I'm not really your sort, you know."
Lady Margaret swept in, very voluble but a little discursive.
"Isn't this just like Bob!" she exclaimed. "I believe he always comeshere early on purpose to find you alone, Letty! Who's coming to lunch,please? And where's dad?"
"Father should be on his way home from the Law Courts by now," Letitiareplied, "and I am afraid it's a very dull luncheon for you, Meg. AuntCaroline is coming, and an American man she travelled over on thesteamer with. I am not quite sure whether she expects to let Bayfieldto him or offer him to me as a husband, but I am sure she has designs."
"The Duchess is always so helpful," Robert grunted.
"So long as it costs her nothing," Lady Margaret declared, "nothingmakes her so happy as to put the whole world to rights."
"Here she comes--in a taxicab, too," Sir Robert announced, looking outof the window. "She is getting positively penurious."
"She is probably showing off before the American," Lady Margaretremarked. "She is always talking about living in a semi-detached houseand making her own clothes. Up to the present, though, she has stuckto Worth."
The Duchess, who duly arrived a few moments later, brought with herinto the room a different and essentially a more cosmopolitanatmosphere. She was a tall, fair woman, attractive in an odd sort ofway, with large features, a delightful smile, and a habit of rapidspeech. She exchanged hasty greetings with every one present and thenturned back towards the man who had followed her into the room.
"Letty dear, this is Mr. David Thain--Lady Letitia Thursford. I toldyou about Mr. Thain, dear, didn't I? This is almost his first visit toEngland, and I want every one to be nice to him. Mr. Thain, this is myother niece, Lady Margaret Lees, and her husband, Sir Robert Lees.Where's Reginald?"
"Father will be here directly," Letitia replied. "If any one'sfamished, we can commence lunch."
"Then let us commence, by all means," the Duchess suggested. "I havebeen giving the whole of the morning to Mr. Thain, improving his mindand showing him things. We wound up with the shops--although I am sureAlfred's tradespeople are no use to any one."
Letitia moved a few steps towards the bell, and on her way back sheencountered the somewhat earnest gaze of her aunt's protege. Even inthose few moments since his entrance, she had been conscious of asomewhat different atmosphere in the faded but stately room. He hadthe air of appraising everything yet belonging nowhere, of being whollyout of touch with an environment which he could scarcely be expected tounderstand or appreciate. He was not noticeably ill-at-ease. On theother hand, his deportment was too rigid for naturalness, and she wasconscious of some quality in his rather too steadfast scrutiny ofherself which militated strongly against her usual toleration. Heseemed to stand for events, and in the lives which they mostly lived,events were ignored.
The butler opened the door and announced luncheon. They crossed thevery handsome, if somewhat empty hall, into the sombre,mahogany-furnished dining room, the walls of which were closely hungwith oil paintings. Letitia motioned the stranger to sit at her righthand, and fancied that he seemed a little relieved at this brief escapefrom his cicerone. Having gone so far, however, she ignored him forseveral moments whilst she watched the seating of her other guests.Her brother-in-law she drew to the vacant place on her left.
"I dare say father will lunch at the club," she whispered. "AuntCaroline always ruffles him."
"I am afraid he will have found something down Temple Bar way to rufflehim a great deal more this morning," Sir Robert replied.
The door of the dining room was at that moment thrown open, however,and the Marquis enter
ed. Pausing for a moment on the threshold, inline with a long row of dingy portraits, there was something distinctlystriking in the family likeness so mercilessly reproduced in his longface, with the somewhat high cheek bones, his tall, angular figure, theeasy bearing and gracious smile. One missed the snuffbox from betweenhis fingers, and the uniform, but there was yet something curiouslyunmodern in the appearance of this last representative of the Mandeleys.
"Let no one disturb themselves, pray," he begged. "I am a little late.My dear Caroline, I am delighted to see you," he went on, raising hissister's fingers to his lips. "Margaret, I shall make no enquiriesabout your health! You are looking wonderfully well to-day."
The Duchess glanced towards her protege, who had risen to his feet andstood facing his newly arrived host. There was a moment's poignantsilence. The two men, for some reason or other, seemed to regard eachother with no common interest.
"This is my friend, Mr. David Thain," the Duchess announced,--"mybrother, the Marquis of Mandeleys. Mr. Thain is an American, Reginald."
The Marquis shook hands with his guest, a form of welcome in which heseldom indulged.
"Any friend of yours, Caroline," he said quietly, "is very welcome tomy house. Robert," he added, as he took his seat, "they tell me thatyou were talking rubbish about agriculture in the House last night.Why do you talk about agriculture? You know nothing about it. You arenot even, so far as I remember, a landed proprietor."
Sir Robert smiled.
"And therefore, sir, I am unprejudiced."
"No one can talk about land, nowadays, without being prejudiced," hisfather-in-law rejoined.
"Father," Letitia begged, "do tell us about the case."
The Marquis watched the whiskey and soda with which his glass was beingfilled.
"The case, my dear," he acknowledged, "has, I am sorry to say, goneagainst me. A remarkably ill-informed and unattractive looking person,whom they tell me will presently be Lord Chief Justice, presumed notonly to give a decision which was in itself quite absurd, but alsorefused leave to appeal."
"Sorry to hear that, sir," Sir Robert remarked. "Cost you a lot ofmoney, too, I'm afraid."
"I believe that it has been an expensive case," the Marquis admitted."My lawyer seemed very depressed about it."
"And you mean to say that it's really all over and done with now?" LadyMargaret enquired.
"For the present, it certainly seems so," the Marquis replied. "Icannot believe, personally, that the laws of my country afford me norelief, under the peculiar circumstances of the case. According to Mr.Wadham, however, they do not."
"What is it all about, anyway, Reginald?" his sister asked. "I haveheard more than once but I have forgotten. Whenever I look in thepaper for a divorce case, I nearly always see your name against theKing, or the King against you, with a person named Vont alsointerested. Surely the Vont family have been retainers down atMandeleys for generations? I remember one of them perfectly well."
The Marquis cleared his throat.
"The unfortunate circumstances," he said, "are perhaps little knowneven amongst the members of my own family. Perhaps it will suffice ifI say that, owing to an indiscretion of my uncle and predecessor, theeleventh Marquis, a gamekeeper's cottage and small plot of land,curiously situated in the shadow of Mandeleys, became the property of ayeoman of the name of Vont. This ill-advised and singular action of mylate uncle is complicated by the fact that the inheritors of his bountyhave become, as a family, inimical to their patrons. Their presentrepresentative, for instance, is obsessed by some real or fanciedgrievance upon which I scarcely care to dilate. For nearly twentyyears," the Marquis continued ruminatively, "the cottage has been emptyexcept for the presence of an elderly person who died some years ago.Since then I have, through my lawyers, endeavoured, both by purchaseand by upsetting the deed of gift, to regain possession of theproperty. The legal owner appears to be domiciled in America, and ashe has been able to resist my lawsuits and has refused all my offers ofpurchase, I gather that in that democratic country he has amassed acertain measure of wealth. We are now confronted with the fact thatthis person announces his intention of returning to England and takingup his residence within a few yards of my front door."
Sir Robert laughed heartily.
"Upon my word, sir," he exclaimed, "it's a humorous situation!"
The Marquis was unruffled but bitter.
"Your sense of humour, my dear Robert," he said, "suffers, I fear, fromyour daily associations in the House of Commons."
The man by Letitia's side suddenly leaned forward. After the smoothand pleasant voice of the Marquis, his question, with its slighttransatlantic accent, sounded almost harsh.
"What did you say that man's name was, Marquis?"
"Richard Vont," was the courteous reply. "The name is a singular one,but America is a vast country. I imagine it is scarcely possible thatin the course of your travels you have come across a person so named?"
"A man calling himself Richard Vont crossed in the steamer with me,three weeks ago," David Thain announced. "I have not the least doubtthat this is the man who is coming to occupy the cottage you speak of."
"It is indeed a small world," the Marquis remarked. "I will notinflict this family matter upon you all any longer. After lunch,perhaps, you will spare me a few moments of your time, Mr.--Mr. Thain.I shall be interested to hear more about this person."
Letitia rose, presently, to leave the room. Whilst she waited for heraunt to conclude a little anecdote, she glanced with some interest atthe man by her side. More than ever the sense of his incongruity withthat atmosphere seemed borne in upon her, yet she was forced to concedeto him, notwithstanding the delicacy of his appearance, a certainunexpected strength, a forcefulness of tone and manner, which gave hima certain distinction. He had risen, waiting for her passing, and onelean brown hand gripped the back of the chair in which she had beensitting. She carried away with her into the Victorian drawing-room,with its odour of faded lavender, a queer sense of having been broughtinto momentary association with stronger and more vital things in life.