"Then, in her position, it is her own fault, my dear, of course. I had been married years before I had a second carriage. Once for all, there is no comparison between Frank and this Mr Huish. If it had not been out of commiseration for your uncle Robert--it being his wish--Mr Huish would not have been received here at all."

Gertrude bit her nether lip, and bent lower over her work as sweet and lovable a face as girl of twenty could have.

"Your uncle is a most unhappy man; and if he were not so rich people would call him insane, living such an absurd life as he does. I often feel as if I must go and rouse him up, and force him to act like a Christian. By the way, you have not been to see him lately?"

"No, mamma."

"Call, then, soon. He must not be neglected. We have our duties to do, and that is one of them. He is always kind to you?"

"Always, mamma."

"That is right. You must humour him, for he seems to have taken a most unnatural dislike to Richard."

"Yes, mamma."

"Do you think so?" said Lady Millet sharply.

"He forbade d.i.c.k to call again after he had importuned him for money."

"Foolish, reckless boy! That's the way young people always seem to me determined to wreck their prospects. Your uncle Robert has no one else to leave his money to but you children, and yet you persist in running counter to his wishes."

"I, mamma?"

"All of you. Do you suppose because he desired your father to take a little more notice of this John Huish that you were to throw yourself at his head?"

Gertrude squeezed her eyelids very tightly together, and took three or four st.i.tches in the dark.

"I have always found Uncle Robert particularly kind to me."

"And so he would be to Renee and to Richard if they were not so foolish.

I declare I don't know what that boy can possibly do with his money.

But, there, I suppose being in a regiment is expensive."

"Do you like Major Malpas, mamma?" said Gertrude suddenly.

"Certainly not!" said Lady Millet tartly; "and really, Gertrude, you are a most extraordinary girl! John Huish one moment, Major Malpas the next. Huish was bad enough; now don't, for goodness' sake, go throwing yourself at Major Malpas."

"Mamma!"

"Will you let me speak, child?" cried Lady Millet angrily. "I don't know what you girls are thinking about! Why, you are as bad as Renee!

If I had not been firm, she would have certainly accepted him, and he is a man of most expensive habits. It was most absurd of Renee. But there: that's over. But I do rather wonder at Frank making so much of a friend of him. Oh dear me, no, Gertrude! that would be impossible!"

"Of course, mamma!"

"Then why did you talk in that tone?"

"Because I don't like Major Malpas, and I am sure Renee does not, either."

"Of course she does not. She is a married lady. Surely she can be civil to people without always thinking of liking! It was a curious chance that Richard should be gazetted into the same regiment; and under the circ.u.mstances I have been bound to invite him and that other officer, Captain Glen, here, for they can help your brother, no doubt, a great deal. You see, I have to think of everything, for your poor father only thinks now of his dinners and his clubs."

Gertrude sighed and went on with her work, while Lady Millet yawned, got up, looked out of the window, and came back.

"Quite time the carriage was round. Then I am to go alone?"

"I promised Renee to be in this morning," said Gertrude quietly.

"Ah, well; then I suppose you must stop. I wonder whether Lady Littletown will take any notice of Richard now he is at Hampton Court?"

"I should think she would, mamma. She is always most friendly."

"Friendly, but not trustworthy, my dear. A terribly scheming woman, Gertrude. Her sole idea seems to be match-making. But, there, Richard is too young to become her prey!"

Gertrude's brow wrinkled, and she looked wonderingly at her mother, whose face was averted.

"I have been looking up the Glens. Not a bad family, but a younger branch. I suppose Richard will accompany his brother officer here one of these days. By the way, my dear, Lord Henry Moorpark seemed rather attentive to you at the Lindleys the other night."

"Yes, mamma," said Gertrude quietly; "he took me in to supper, and sat and chatted with me a long time."

"Yes; I noticed that he did."

"I like Lord Henry, mamma; he is so kind and gentle and courteous."

"Very, my dear."

"One always feels as if one could confide in him--he is so fatherly, and--"

"My dear Gertrude!"

"What have I said, mamma?"

"Something absurd. Fatherly! What nonsense! Lord Henry is in the prime of life, and you must not talk like that. You girls are so foolish! You think of no one but boys with pink and white faces and nothing to say for themselves. Lord Henry Moorpark is a most _distingue_ gentle--I mean a n.o.bleman; and judging from the attentions he began to pay you the other night, I--"

"Oh, mamma! surely you cannot think that?"

"And pray why not, Gertrude?" said Lady Millet austerely. "Why should not I think _that_? Do you suppose I wish to see my youngest daughter marry some penniless boy? Do, pray, for goodness' sake, throw away all that bread-and-b.u.t.ter, schoolgirl, sentimental nonsense. It is quite on the cards that Lord Henry Moorpark may propose for you."

"Oh dear," thought Gertrude; "and I was talking to him so warmly about John Huish!"

Gertrude's red lips parted, showing her white teeth, and the peachy pink faded out of her cheeks as she sat there with her face contracting, and a cloud seemed to come over her young life, in whose shadow she saw herself, and her future as joyless as that of the sister who had been married about a year earlier to a wealthy young north Yorkshire manufacturer, who was now neglecting her and making her look old before her time.

"There, it must be nearly three," said Lady Millet, rising; "I'll go and put on my things. I shall not come in again, Gertrude. Give my love to Renee, and if Lord Henry Moorpark does come--but, there, I have perfect faith in your behaving like a sensible girl. By the way, Richard may run up. If he does, try and keep him to dinner. I don't half like his being at that wretched Hampton Court; it is so terribly suggestive of holiday people and those dreadful vans."

With these words Lady Millet sailed out of the room, thinking to herself that a better managing mother never lived, and a quarter of an hour after she entered her carriage to go and distribute cards at the houses of her dearest friends.

Volume 1, Chapter IV.

THE REMAINS OF A FALL.