"Wearisome, Nephew? You surprise me!"
"And depressingly dreary, Uncle."
"You astonish me!"
"Indeed, dissipation thoroughly distresses me."
"You amaze me! But you gamble, I presume?"
"When nothing better offers, sir."
"Well upon me everlasting soul--!"
"I hope I do not shock you, Uncle Jervas?"
"Worry would be the more apt word, perhaps; you worry me, Nephew. Such impeccable virtue naturally suggests an early death--a harp--a halo!
And yet you appear to enjoy robust health. Pray to what do you attribute your so great immunity from those pleasant weaknesses that are so frequently a concomitant of strength and youthful vigour--those charming follies, bewitching foibles that a somewhat rigorous convention stigmatises as vices--abhorrent word!"
"You mean, sir, what excuse do I offer for not being politely vicious as seems so much the fashion?"
"I confess you puzzle me, boy, for you are anything but an angel in pantaloons. I have occasionally thought to remark in you a hint of unplumbed deeps--of pa.s.sions as hot and fierce as--"
"Your own, Uncle Jervas?" At this he turned to glare at me rather haughtily, then his eyes softened, his lips twitched.
"So women do not appeal to you, Peregrine. Pray why?"
"Because woman appeals to me so much--one, sir!"
"Ah, your roving gipsy?"
"Precisely, sir."
"Where is she, at present?"
"I believe in Italy, sir."
"Hum! Your friend Vere-Manville ran across her in Rome, I believe.
When did you hear from her last?"
"One year and ten months ago, sir."
"Painfully exact! And how many letters has she written you, may I ask?"
"One, sir."
"Hum! You know that the Earl of Wyvelstoke has made her his ward and heiress, Peregrine?"
"His lordship informed me of the fact, Uncle."
"He corresponds with you, then?"
"Every month without fail."
"Then of course you know he is returning to England shortly and holds a great reception at his place in town, a fortnight from to-day, I think?"
"Yes, sir."
"And in the s.p.a.ce of two years you have received one letter from your beautiful gipsy?"
"Only one, sir! Though his lordship has kept me informed as to her welfare and progress."
"Such sublime patience argues either indifference or stupendous faith, boy!"
"Sir--sir," cried I, stirred at last. "Oh, sir, how may love be--how endure without faith?"
"Yours is a strange love, Peregrine, exceeding patient and long-suffering! You practically compelled her to--accept his lordship"s offer, I believe?"
"Uncle--Uncle Jervas," I stammered, "how should you know this?"
"I have the honour to number the Earl of Wyvelstoke among my few friends, he writes to me also--occasionally. You are an immensely confiding lover, and your patience is almost--superhuman."
"However, my waiting is nearly over, I shall see her soon--soon!"
"In company with every buck, Corinthian and Macaroni in London, Peregrine."
"Still--I shall see her, sir!"
"If the reports of her singing, her wit and beauty are but half true, Peregrine, she will be the rage, the universal toast."
"Still--she will be--Diana, sir!"
"But two years, Nephew--wealth, rank, adulation--can these have wrought no change, think you?"
"Only for the better, sir!"
"Oh, the sublime a.s.surance of Youth!" murmured my uncle. "Have you no doubt of yourself, now that you are no longer the--the--ah--"only Richmond in the field"?"
Here, though I strove to speak, I could not, but walked with head bowed, but very conscious of his keen scrutiny.
"You are so intense, Perry," he continued after a moment, "so very, d.a.m.nably intense that I confess I grow a little fearful lest you be disappointed, and therefore take the liberty to annoy you with my dismal croakings, if I may--shall I proceed?"
"Pray do, sir!"
"Then, Peregrine, I would warn you that, considering her new att.i.tude towards life, her very altered views upon the world in general, it is only to be expected your gipsy may find you very different from her first estimation of you--"
"Ah, there it is, sir--there it is!" I groaned. "The haunting fear that to-day--measured by the larger standard of her new experiences, she may find me fall very far short of what she imagines me--"
"And if this be so,--how then?"