"You now know, madam, that the young man is your own grandson, and therefore ent.i.tled to at least as much consideration from you as from me; and I again venture to impress upon you this fact, that if prematurely his name be disclosed, it may, and indeed _must_ embarra.s.s my endeavours to reinstate him in his rights."
As he said this Varbarriere made a profound and solemn bow; and before Lady Alice could resume her catechism, that dark gentleman had left the room.
As he emerged from the door he glanced down the broad oak stair, at the foot of which he heard voices. They were those of Sir Jekyl and his daughter. The Baronet"s eye detected the dark form on the first platform above him.
"Ha! Monsieur Varbarriere--very welcome, monsieur--when did you arrive?"
cried his host in his accustomed French.
"Ten minutes ago."
"Quite well, I hope."
"Perfectly; many thanks--and Mademoiselle Beatrix?"
The large and sombre figure was descending the stairs all this time, and an awful shadow, as he did so, seemed to overcast the face and form of the young lady, to whom, with a dark smile, he extended his hand.
"Quite well, Beatrix, too--_all_ quite well--even Lady Alice in her usual health," said Sir Jekyl.
"_Better_--I"m glad to hear," said Varbarriere.
"Better! Oh dear, no--that would never do. But her temper is just as lively, and all her ailments flourishing. By-the-bye, your nephew had to leave us suddenly."
"Yes--business," said Varbarriere, interrupting.
Beatrix, he was glad to observe, had gone away to the drawing-room.
"He"ll be back, I hope, immediately?" continued the Baronet. "He"s a fine young fellow. Egad, he"s about as good-looking a young fellow as I know. I should be devilish proud of him if I were you. When does he come back to us?"
"Immediately, I hope; business, you know; but nothing very long. We are both, I fear, a very tedious pair of guests; but you have been so pressing, so hospitable----"
"Say rather, so selfish, monsieur," answered Sir Jekyl, laughing. "Our whist and cigars have languished ever since you left."
M. Varbarriere laughed a double-ba.s.s accompaniment to the Baronet"s chuckle, and the dressing-bell ringing at that moment, Sir Jekyl and he parted agreeably.
CHAPTER XII.
The Guests Together.
Varbarriere marched slowly up, and entered his dressing-room with a "glooming" countenance and a heavy heart. Everything looked as if he had left it but half an hour ago. He poked the fire and sat down.
He felt like a surgeon with an operation before him. There was a loathing of it, but he did not flinch.
Reader, you think you understand other men. Do you understand yourself?
Did you ever quite succeed in defining your own motives, and arriving at the moral base of any action you ever did? Here was Varbarriere sailing with wind and tide full in his favour, right into the haven where he would be--yet to look in his face you would have said "_there_ is a sorrowful man," and had you been able to see within, you would have said, "_there_ is a man divided against himself." Yes, as every man _is_. Several spirits, quite distinct, not blending, but pleading and battling very earnestly on opposite sides, all in possession of the "house"--but one dominant, always with a disputed sway, but always carrying his point--always the prosperous bully.
Yes, every man is a twist of many strands. Varbarriere was compacted of several Varbarrieres--one of whom was the stronger and the most infernal. His feebler a.s.sociates commented upon him--despised him--feared him--sought to restrain him but knew they could not. He tyrannised, and was to the outer world the one and indivisible Varbarriere.
Monsieur Varbarriere the tyrant was about to bring about a _fracas_ that night, against which the feebler and better Varbarrieres protested.
Varbarriere the tyrant held the knife over the throat of a faithless woman--the better Varbarrieres murmured words of pity and of faint remonstrance. Varbarriere the tyrant scrupled not to play the part of spy and traitor for his ends; the n.o.bler Varbarrieres upbraided him sadly, and even despised him. But what were these feeble angelic Varbarrieres? The ruler is the state, _l"etat c"est moi!_ and Varbarriere the tyrant carried all before him.
As the dark and somewhat corpulent gentleman before the gla.s.s adjusted his necktie and viewed his shirt-studs, he saw in his countenance, along with the terrible resolution of that tyrant, the sorrows and fears of the less potent spirits; and he felt, though he would not accept, their upbraidings and their truth; so with a stern and heavy heart he descended to the drawing-room.
He found the party pretty nearly a.s.sembled, and the usual buzz and animation prevailing, and he smiled and swayed from group to group, and from one chair to another.
Doocey was glad, monstrous glad to see him.
"I had no idea how hard it was to find a good player, until you left us--our whist has been totally ruined. The first night we tried Linnett; he thinks he plays, you know; well, I do a.s.sure you, you never _witnessed_ such a thing--such a _caricature_, by Jupiter--forgetting your lead--revoking--_every_thing, by Jove. You may guess what a chance we had--_my_ partner, I give you my honour, against old Sir Paul Blunket, as dogged a player as there is in England, egad, and Sir Jekyl there. We tried Drayton next night--the most conceited fellow on earth, and _no head_--Sir Paul had him. I never saw an old fellow so savage.
Egad, they were calling one another names across the table--you"d have _died_ laughing; but we"ll have some play now you"ve come back, and I"m very glad of it."
Varbarriere, while he listened to all this, smiling his fat dark smile, and shrugging and bowing slightly as the tale required these evidences, was quietly making his observations on two or three of the persons who most interested him. Beatrix, he thought, was looking ill--certainly much paler, and though very pretty, rather sad--that is, she was ever and anon falling into little abstractions, and when spoken to, waking up with a sudden little smile.
Lady Jane Lennox--she did not seem to observe him--was seated like a sultana on a low cushioned seat, with her rich silks circling grandly round her. He looked at her a little stealthily and curiously, as men eye a prisoner who is about to suffer execution. His countenance during that brief glance was un.o.bserved, but you might have read there something sinister and cruel.
"I forget--_had_ the Bishop come when you left us?" said Sir Jekyl, laying his hand lightly from behind on the arm of Varbarriere. The dark-featured man winced--Sir Jekyl"s voice sounded unpleasantly in his reverie.
"Ah! Oh! The Bishop? Yes--the Bishop was here when I left; he had been here a day or two," answered Varbarriere, with a kind of effort.
"Then I need not introduce you--you"re friends already," said Sir Jekyl.
At which moment the a.s.sembled party learned that dinner awaited them, and the murmured arrangements for the procession commenced, and the drawing-room was left to the click of the Louis Quatorze clock and the sadness of solitude.
"We had such a dispute, Monsieur Varbarriere, while you were away," said Miss Blunket.
"About me, I hope," answered the gentleman addressed, in tolerable English, and with a gallant jocularity.
"Well, no--not about you," said old Miss Blunket, timidly. "But I so wished for you to take part in the argument."
"And why wish for me?" answered the sardonic old fellow, amused, maybe the least bit in the world flattered.
"Well, I think you have the power, Monsieur Varbarriere, of putting a great deal in very few words--I mean, of making an argument so clear and short."
Varbarriere laughed indulgently, and began to think Miss Blunket a rather intelligent person.
"And what was the subject, pray?"
"Whether life was happier in town or country."
"Oh! the old debate--country mouse against town mouse," replied Varbarriere.
"Ah, just so--so true--I don"t think _any_one said that, and--and--I do wish to know which side you would have taken."
"The condition being that it should be all country or all town, of course, and that we were to retain our incomes?"
"Yes, certainly," said Miss Blunket, awaiting his verdict with a little bit of bread suspended between her forefinger and thumb.