"I'm not-yet!-acquainted with him, but I have always understood him to be a deuced odd fish," agreed the Viscount.

Mr Crick uttered a little t.i.tter, but said it wouldn't become him to agree, though he was bound to own that Lord Nettlecombe had some rather odd ways. "He has become quite a recluse, you know, and almost never receives anyone, except Mr Jonas Steane-and not even him at present." He sighed, and shook his head. "I regret to say that he and Mr Steane had a difference of opinion a few weeks ago, which resulted in his lordship's going off to Harrowgate, and leaving me with instructions to deal with any matters that might arise during his absence. He stated in- in what I may call unequivocal terms that he did not wish to see Mr Steane, or, in fact, anyone, or to receive any communications whatsoever-even from me!"

"Good G.o.d, he must be short of a sheet!" exclaimed the Viscount.

"No, no, my lord!" Mr Crick said hastily. "That is, not if you mean to say that he's deranged, which, I collect, is your meaning! He has a-a somewhat untoward disposition, and has what I venture to say are some rather odd humours, but he is very shrewd-oh, very shrewd indeed!-in all worldly matters! Extremely long-headed, or, as he would say himself, up to all the rigs!" He t.i.ttered again, but, as the Viscount remained unresponsive to this evidence of Lord Nettlecombe's humour, changed the t.i.tter into a cough, and said, with a confidential drop of his voice: "His-his eccentricities derive, I believe, from the unfortunate circ.u.mstances of his private life, which has not, alas, been a happy one!

It would be improper in me to expatiate on this subject, but I need not scruple to tell your lordship (for it is common knowledge) that his marriage was not attended by that degree of connubial bliss which one has so frequently known to soften a somewhat harsh disposition. And the very unsteady character of his younger son was a source of great pain to him-oh, very great pain! One had hoped that he would find consolation in Mr Jonas Steane, but, unfortunately, he did not care for Mr Jonas's wife, so that his relationship with Mr Jonas has sometimes been a trifle strained, though there has never been any serious quarrel between them, until- But more I must not say on that head!"

"My dear sir," interrupted the Viscount, who had been growing perceptibly impatient during this monologue, "do, pray, let me make it plain to you that I am not concerned with Lord Nettlecombe's marital troubles, or with his quarrels with his sons! All I wish to know is where, in Harrowgate, he is to be found!"

"Oh dear, oh dear, did I say that he was in Harrowgate?" asked Mr Crick, looking dismayed.

"You did, so you may just as well give me his exact direction," said the Viscount. "That will save me the trouble of enquiring for him at every hotel, inn, or lodging-house in the place, which, I promise you, I shall do, if you persist in withholding his direction!"

"My lord, I don't know his direction!"

The Viscount's brows drew together. He said incredulously: "You don't know it? How is this possible? You have told me that you are wholly in his confidence!"

"Yes, yes, I am!" averred Mr Crick, apparently on the verge of bursting into tears. "That is to say, I know why he has chosen to go away, but he would not tell me where he meant to stay, because he said he didn't wish to be troubled with any business while he was away. He did me the honour to say that he was confident I could settle any matter that might come up without referring it to him. May I venture to suggest to your lordship that you should wait until he returns to London-which, according to my information, he will do next month-----"

"Why, certainly!" said the Viscount affably, rising from his chair, and picking up his hat and gloves. "You may suggest anything you please, Mr Crick! I am sorry you are unable to furnish me with Lord Nettlecombe's direction, and I won't waste any more of your time. Oh, no! pray don't trouble to escort me to the door! I can very well find the way out!"

But this Mr Crick would by no means permit him to do. He darted across the room to hold open the door for his distinguished visitor, bowing even more deeply than his clerk had done, and followed him down the dusty stairs, begging first his pardon and then his understanding of the delicacy of his own position as the trusted confidant of a n.o.ble client. The Viscount rea.s.sured him on both heads, but left him looking more hara.s.sed than ever. His last words, as Desford was about to mount into his tilbury, were that he hoped nothing he had said had given a wrong impression! Lord Nettlecombe had gone to try what the Harrowgate Chalybeate would do for his gout.

"Don't tease yourself!" Desford said, over his shoulder. "I won't disclose to his lordship that it was you who let slip the information that he had gone to Harrowgate!"

He then took his seat in the tilbury, recovered the reins from Stebbing, and drove off at a brisk trot, saying abruptly: "Didn't my father go to Harrowgate once- oh, years ago, when he was first troubled by the gout! I was still up at Oxford, I think."

Stebbing took a minute or two to answer this, frowning in an effort of memory. Finally he said: "Yes, my lord, he did. But, according to what I remember, he came home within a sennight, not liking the place. Unless it was Leamington he took against." His frown deepened, but cleared after another few moments, and he said: "No, it wasn't Leamington, my lord-though the waters never did him any good. It was Harrowgate right enough. And those waters didn't do him any good neither-not but what there's no saying that they wouldn't have done him good if he'd drunk more than one gla.s.s, which tasted so bad it made him sick."

The Viscount grinned appreciatively. "Poor Papa! Who shall blame him for going home? Did he take you there?"

"Me, my lord?" said Stebbing, shocked. "Lor', no! In them days I was only one of the under-grooms!"

"I suppose you must have been. What a pity! I hoped you might know the place, for I don't. Oh, well, we'd best stop at Hatchards, and I'll see if I can come by a guide-book there!"

"My lord, you're never going to go all that way just to find Miss's grandpa?" exclaimed Stebbing. "Which-if you'll pardon the liberty!- don't seem to be a grandpa as anyone would be wishful to find!"

"Very likely not-indeed, almost certainly not!-but I've pledged my word to Miss Steane that I will find him, and-d.a.m.n it, my blood's up, and I will not be beaten!"

"But, my lord," expostulated Stebbing, "it'll take you four or five days to get there! It's above two hundred miles away: that I do know, for when my lord and her ladyship went there, they were five days on the road, and Mr Rudford, which was his lordship's valet at that time, always held to it that it was that which set up his lordship's back so that he wouldn't have liked the place no matter what!"

"Good G.o.d, you don't imagine, do you, that I mean to go in the family travelling-carriage? What with four people in the carriage, the coachman, and I'll go bail a couple of footmen outside, and a coach following, chuck-full of baggage, besides the rest of my father's retinue, I'm astonished they weren't a sennight on the road! I shall travel in my chaise, of course, taking Tain, and one portmanteau only, and changing horses as often as need be, and I promise you I shan't be more than three days on the road. No, don't pull that long face! If I can post to Doncaster in two days, which you know well I have frequently done, I can certainly reach Harrowgate in three days-possibly less!"

"Yes, my lord, and possibly more, if you was to have an accident,"

said Stebbing. "Or find yourself with a stumbler in the team, or maybe a limper!"

"Or founder in a snowdrift," agreed the Viscount.

"That," said Stebbing coldly, "I didn't say, nor wouldn't, not being such a cabbage-head as to look for snowdrifts at this time o'year. But if you was to drop the high toby, who's to say you won't find yourself foundering in a regular hasty-pudding?"

"Who indeed? I'll bear it in mind, and take care to stick to the post-road," promised his lordship.

Stebbing sniffed, but refrained from further speech.

Desford was unable to find a guide-book of Harrowgate at Hatchard's shop, but he was offered a fat little volume, which announced itself to be a Guide to All the Watering and Seabathing Places, and contained, besides some tasteful views, numerous maps, town-plans, and itineraries. He bore this off for perusal that evening, hoping to discover in the chapter devoted to the amenities of Harrowgate a list of the hotels and lodgings there. But although almost a dozen inns received favourable notice neither High nor Low Harrowgate appeared to boast of any establishment comparable to the hotels to be found at more fashionable watering-places; nor was any lodging-house mentioned. As he read what the unknown author had to say about the place, and pictured his father there, he was torn between appreciative amus.e.m.e.nt, and a strong wish that he himself were not obliged to go there. The very first paragraph was daunting, for it stated that because Harrowgate possessed "in a superior degree" neither the attraction of being fashionable, nor beauty of scenery, it was chiefly resorted to by valetudinarians. No doubt feeling that he had been rather too severe, the author bestowed some temperate praise on the situation of High Harrowgate, which he described as exceedingly pleasant, and commanding an extensive prospect of the distant country. But as, in the very next paragraph, he referred to the "dreary common" on which both High and Low Harrowgate were built, and to "the barren wolds of Yorkshire", it seemed safe to a.s.sume that the place had not taken his fancy. Which, thought Desford, flicking over the pages which dealt with the qualities and virtues of the wells, and reading the pa.s.sage headed Customs and Accommodations, was not to be wondered at. He could almost feel the hairs rising on his scalp when he read that one of the advantages enjoyed by visitors to Harrowgate was that the narrow circle of their amus.e.m.e.nts drew them into "something like family parties"; but when he read that the presence of the ladies sitting at the same board as the gentlemen excluded any rudeness or indelicacy, he began to chuckle; and when, on the next page, he learned that one of the advantages of mixing freely with the ladies was the sobriety it ensured-to which the author acidly added that to this the waters contributed "not a little", he laughed so much that it was several moments before his vision was sufficiently clear to enable him to read any more. However, he did read more, and although he found no mention of a pump room, he did learn that there was an a.s.sembly Room, and a Master of Ceremonies, who presided over the public b.a.l.l.s; a theatre; two libraries; a billiard-room; and a morning lounge in one of the new buildings, called the Promenade; which made it seem probable that he would experience no very great difficulty in discovering where he could find Lord Nettlecombe.

But what he found very difficult to understand was why Lord Nettlecombe, who, so far from enjoying the company of his fellow men and women, had for years spurned even his oldest acquaintances, should have elected suddenly to spend the summer months where, according to the author of the Guide, repasts (served in the long rooms of the various inns) were "seasoned by social conversation"; and where "both s.e.xes vied with each other in the art of being mutually agreeable".

It was possible, of course, that the circ.u.mstance of the expenses of living and lodging being moderate might have attracted his cheese-paring lordship; but this advantage must surely have been off-set by the cost of so long a journey. The Viscount, as he took his candle up to bed, wondered if Nettlecombe had travelled north on the common stage, but abandoned this notion, feeling that the old screw could not be such a shocking lick-penny as that. He might, with perfect propriety, have travelled on the Mail coach, but although this was much cheaper than hiring a private chaise it was by no means-dog-cheap, particularly when two places would have to be booked. Lord Nettlecombe might not travel in the rather outmoded state favoured by Lord Wroxton, but it was inconceivable to Desford that he could have gone away on a protracted visit without taking his valet with him. The thought of his high and imposing father's regal process to Harrowgate, and his very brief stay there, made Desford begin to chuckle again. He must remember, he told himself, to ask Poor Dear Papa, at a suitable moment, for his opinion of Harrowgate.

Tain, his own extremely accomplished valet, had received without a blink the news that his lively young master meant to leave almost at crack of dawn for an unfashionable resort in Yorkshire; and when further told that he must pack whatever was strictly necessary into one portmanteau, he merely said: "Certainly, my lord. For how many days does your lordship mean to stay in Harrowgate?"

"Oh, not above two or three!" replied Desford. "I shan't be attending any evening-parties, so don't pack any ball-toggery."

"Then one portmanteau will be quite sufficient for your lordship's needs," said Tain calmly. "Your dressing-case may go inside the chaise, and I shall not pack your Hessians, or any of your town-coats. I fancy they would be quite ineligible for wear in Those Parts."

That was all he had to say about the projected expedition, either then or later; and Desford, who had had several years' experience of his competence, never so much as thought of asking him whether he had packed enough shirts and neckcloths, and had found room for a change of outer raiment.

For his part, Tain showed not the smallest surprise at what he might have thought to be a very queer start, or betrayed by look or word that he was well aware of the Viscount's purpose in going post-haste to Harrowgate, when his intention had been to attend the races at Newmarket. He had not yet seen Miss Steane, but he knew all about her meeting with the Viscount, for he stood on very friendly terms with both the Aldhams, and had contrived, without showing a vulgar curiosity unbecoming to a man of his consequence, to discover from them quite as much as they knew, and many of Mrs Aldham's conjectures on the probable outcome of the adventure. On these he withheld judgment, feeling that he knew my lord far more intimately than they did, and having yet to see in him any of the signs of a gentleman who had fallen head over ears in love. He did not discuss the matter with Stebbing, not so much because it would have been beneath a gentleman's gentleman to hobn.o.b with a groom, but because he was as jealous of Stebbing as Stebbing was of him.

Before he went to bed, the Viscount wrote a brief letter to Miss Silverdale, informing her that he was off to Harrowgate, where he was reliably informed Nettlecombe was to be found, but hoped to be back again in not much more than a sennight's time, when he would come to Inglehurst immediately, to tell her how his mission had prospered, or, he added, if it has not prospered, to discuss with you what were best to do next for that unfortunate child. I should think myself the biggest rascal unhung to have foisted her on to you, my best of friends, if I were not persuaded that she must have made you like her.

This missive he gave to Aldham on the following morning, telling him to send it by express post to Inglehurst. He then climbed into his chaise, and set forward on the long journey into Yorkshire.

CHAPTER 9.

The Viscount suffered no delays on his journey, and might have reached Harrowgate at the end of the second day had it not occurred to him that to arrive without warning at a watering-place in the height of its season would probably entail a prolonged search for accommodation, and that the late evening was scarcely the time to prosecute this. So he spent the second night at the King's Arms, in Leeds, leaving himself with only some twenty more miles to cover. He was an extremely healthy young man, and since he spent a great part of his time in all the more energetic forms of sport it was hard to tire him out, but two very long days in a post-chaise had made him feel as weary as he was bored. The chaise was his own, and very well-sprung, but it was also very lightly built, which, while it made for speed, meant that it bounded over the inequalities of the road in a manner not at all conducive to repose.

Midway through the second day he remarked to Tain that he wished he could exchange places with one of the post-boys. Quite shocked, Tain said incredulously: "Exchange places with a post-boy, my lord?"

"Yes, for he at least has something to do. Though I daresay I shouldn't care to be obliged to wear a leg-iron," he added reflectively.

"No, my lord," said Tain, primly. "Certainly not! A very unbecoming thing for any gentleman to do!"

"Also uncomfortable, don't you think?" suggested Desford, gently quizzing him.

"I have never worn one, my lord, so I cannot take it upon myself to venture an opinion," replied Tain, in chilly accents.

"I must remember to ask my own wheel-boy," said Desford provocatively.

But Tain, refusing to be drawn, merely said; "Certainly, my lord,"

leaving Desford to regret that it was he and not Stebbing who was sitting beside him. Stebbing would undoubtedly have entered with enthusiasm into a discussion, embellishing it with some entertaining anecdotes ill.u.s.trative of the advantages and disadvantages attached to a postilion's career.

However, the regret vanished when the Viscount remembered how valuable Tain's services became from the instant that he climbed down from the chaise, and entered whatever posting-house his employer had chosen to honour with his patronage on this or any other journey. In some mysterious way known only to himself he could transform the most unpromising bedchamber into an inviting one in no more than a flea's leap, as the saying was; to lay out a change of raiment for his master; to make such arrangements for his comfort as Desford would not have thought it necessary to command, if left to manage for himself; to press out the creases in his coat; to launder his neckcloth and his shirt; to procure extra candles; and to overawe the domestic staff into bringing up hot water to my lord's room without delay as soon as he himself demanded it. Stebbing might be a more amusing companion during a tedious journey, but none of Tain's arts was known to him, as the Viscount realized, and acknowledged, when, as Tain drew the curtains round his bed that evening, he murmured: "Thank you! I only wish you may have ensured your own comfort half as well as you have ensured mine!"

He did not reach Harrowgate until shortly before noon on the following morning, because although he had had the intention of setting forward on the last few miles of his journey at eight o'clock Tain had quite deliberately refrained from rousing him until an hour later, saying mendaciously, but with complete sangfroid, that he had misunderstood his instructions. What he did not say was that when he had softly entered the room at six o'clock he had found the Viscount sunk in a profound sleep from which he had not had the heart to rouse him. He guessed, judging by his own experience, that my lord had spent the first part of the night under the lingering impression that he was still bowling and bounding and swaying over the road, and had only slept in uneasy s.n.a.t.c.hes until overcome by exhaustion. As this guess was correct, and Desford was still feeling both sleepy and battered, the excuse was received with a prodigious yawn, accompanied by nothing more alarming than a sceptical glance, and a rather thickly uttered: "Oh, well- !".

Revived by an excellent breakfast, Desford shook off his unaccustomed la.s.situde, and resumed his journey. It was a day of bright sunshine, with just enough wind blowing off the moors to make it invigorating, and under these conditions he saw Harrowgate at its best, and was much inclined to think that his anonymous Guide had maligned the place. The Low Town did not attract him, but the situation of High Harrowgate, which lay nearly a mile beyond it, was as pleasant as the Guide had grudgingly described. On a clear day-and this was a very clear day-York Minster could be seen in the distance, with the Hambleton hills beyond; and to the west the mountains of Craven.

Besides the race course, the theatre, and the princ.i.p.al Chalybeate, High Harrowgate possessed a large green, which was one of its most agreeable features, and round which three of its chief hotels stood, a great many shops, and what bore all the appearance of being a fashionable library.

"Come now!" exclaimed Desford cheerfully, as the chaise drew up at the Dragon. "I don't consider this a dreary place at all, do you, Tain?"

"Your lordship has not yet seen it in bad weather," responded Tain unencouragingly. "I should not myself choose to sojourn here on a dull day, when the prospect would no doubt be shrouded in mist."

Neither the Dragon nor the Granby had a room to spare, but the Viscount was more fortunate at the Queen's, where, after a hurried colloquy with his spouse, conducted in an urgent whisper, the landlord was happy to inform his lordship that he had just one room vacant- indeed, one of his best rooms, looking out on to the green, which he was only able to offer because the gentleman who had booked it had unaccountably failed to honour his contract. He then escorted Desford upstairs to inspect it, and, on its being approved, bowed himself out, and hurried downstairs again, first to order a couple of menials to carry up the gentleman's baggage to No. 7, and then to inform his fl.u.s.tered wife that if Mr Fritwell should happen to show his front Jack (the hope of his house) would have to give up his room to him, and bed down over the stables. Upon her venturing to expostulate he silenced her by saying that if she thought he was going to turn away a well-breeched swell, travelling in a chaise-and-four, and attended by his valet, merely to avoid offending old Mr Fritwell, who was more inclined to argue over the reckoning than to drop his blunt freely, she was the more mistaken.

Little though he knew it, the Viscount was indebted to Tain's entrance upon the scene, bearing his dressing-case, for the landlord's decision to sacrifice old Mr Fritwell. The landlord was sharp enough to recognize after one look at his lordship that a member of the Quality had walked into the inn, and-after a second, shrewd, glance at the cut of his lordship's coat, the intricate folds of his neckcloth, and the gloss on his top-boots-no country squire, but a London buck of the first head; but it was Tain's arrival which clinched the matter. Unknown ladies and gentlemen travelling without their personal servants found it hard to obtain accommodation at any of the best inns in Harrowgate, valets and abigails apparently being regarded by the landlords as insurances against the possibility of being choused out of their due reckonings.

The Viscount had not thought it necessary to acquaint the landlord either with his name or his rank, but this was a foolish omission speedily rectified by Tain, far better versed in such matters than his master. Instead of following immediately in the Viscount's wake, he awaited the landlord's return at the foot of the stairs, and proceeded with quelling civility to make known to him my lord's requirements. By the time he had reached the stage of warning the landlord not, on any account, to permit the Boots to lay a finger on my lord's footwear, he had succeeded in so much enlarging his master's consequence that it would not have been surprising if the landlord had believed himself to be entertaining, if not a Royal prince, at least a Serene Highness.

As a result of these competent, if top-lofty, tactics, he was able to inform the Viscount, when he presently rejoined him in No. 7, that he had ventured to bespeak a private parlour for him, and to arrange with the landlord for his dinner to be served there. The Viscount, who was standing by the window, watching the various persons pa.s.sing below, replied absently: "Have you? I thought it not worth while to ask for one since I don't expect to be here above a couple of nights, but I daresay you're right. You know, Tain, the place is full of valetudinarians! I've never seen so many people hobbling along on sticks in my life!"

"Exactly so, my lord!" said Tain, beginning swiftly to unpack the contents of the dressing-case. "I have myself seen three of them enter this house, one of them being an elderly lady of what one must call a garrulous disposition. I formed the opinion that if she were to subject your lordship to a description of her sufferings and of the cure which she is undergoing you would be hard put to it to maintain even the appearance of civility."

"Then you were certainly right to procure a private parlour for me,"

said the Viscount, laughing.

Leaving Tain to unpack his portmanteau, he sallied forth to continue his search for Lord Nettlecombe. He had already enquired for him at the Dragon and the Granby, without meeting with anything but blank looks and head-shakings, so, as the Chalybeate, under its imposing dome, lay on the opposite side of the green he thought he might as well make that his first port of call. If Lord Nettlecombe had come to Harrowgate for his health's sake it seemed likely that he must by now have become a familiar figure there. But none of the attendants seemed to have heard of his lordship, the most helpful amongst them being unable to do more than suggest that he should be sought at the Tewit Well, which was the second of the two Chalybeates, situated half-a-mile to the west of the princ.i.p.al one.

Desford strode off, glad to be able to stretch his legs after having been cooped up for so many hours, but although he enjoyed a brisk walk it ended in another rebuff, accompanied by a recommendation to try the Sulphur Wells, at Lower Harrowgate, and the information that although the Lower town was a mile distant by road it was no more than half-a-mile away if approached "over the stile". But as the directions given to him on how to reach the stile were as vague as such directions too often are, Desford decided to enquire at the inns and boarding-houses in High Harrowgate, before extending his search to the Lower town.

He very soon discovered that although Harrowgate was described by the Guide as consisting of two scattered villages this was another of that anonymous author's misleading statements: no village that Desford had yet seen contained so many inns and boarding-houses as High Harrowgate. At none of those he visited was he able to obtain any news of his quarry, and by the time a church clock struck the hour of six, at which unfashionable time dinner was served at all the best inns, he was tired, hungry, and exasperated, and thankfully abandoned, for that day, his fruitless search.

When he reached the Queen he was considerably surprised by the respect with which he was greeted, the porter bowing him in, a waiter hurrying forward to discover whether he would take a gla.s.s of sherry before he went upstairs to his parlour, and the landlord breaking off a conversation with a less favoured guest to conduct him to the stairs, informing him on the way that dinner-which he trusted would meet with his approval-should be served immediately, and that he had taken it upon himself to bring up a bottle of his best burgundy from the cellar, and one of a very tolerable claret, in case my lord should prefer the lighter wine.

The reason for these embarra.s.singly obsequious attentions was soon made plain to the Viscount. Tain, relieving him of his hat and gloves, said that he had ventured to order a neat, plain dinner for him, consisting of a Cressy soup, removed with a fillet of veal, some glazed sweetbreads, and a few pet.i.t pates, to be followed by a second course of which prawns, peas, and a gooseberry tart were the princ.i.p.al dishes. "I took the precaution, my lord," he said, "of looking at the bill of fare, and saw that it was just as I had feared: a mere ordinary, and not at all what you are accustomed to. So I ordered what I believe you will like."

"Well, I am certainly hungry, but I couldn't eat the half of it!" Desford declared.

However, when he sat down to table he found that he was hungrier than he had supposed, and he ate rather more than half of what was set before him. The claret, though not of the first growth, was better than the landlord's somewhat slighting description of it had led him to expect; and the brandy with which he rounded off the repast was a true Cognac. Under its benign influence he began to take a more hopeful view of his immediate prospects, and to consider what his next move should be. He decided that the best thing he could do would be to visit first the Sulphur Well, and next, if he failed to come by any intelligence of Lord Nettlecombe's whereabouts there, to discover the names and directions of the doctors practising in Harrowgate.

The experiences of the first wearing day he had spent in his search for Nettlecombe prevented him from feeling either surprise or any marked degree of disappointment when his enquiries at the Sulphur Well were productive of nothing more than regretful head-shakes; but he was a trifle daunted when presented with a list of the Harrowgate doctors: he had not thought that so many medical men were to be found in so small a spa. He betook himself to the Crown to study the list over a fortifying tankard of Home Brewed; and, having crossed off from it those who advertised themselves as Surgeons, and consulted a plan of both High and Low Harrowgate, which he had had the forethought to buy that morning, set out on foot to visit the first of the Lower town's pract.i.tioners which figured on the list. Neither this member of the Faculty, nor the next on his list, numbered Lord Nettlecombe amongst his patients, but just as the Viscount was contemplating with disgust the prospect of spending the rest of the day in what he was fast coming to believe was an abortive search, fortune at last smiled upon him: Dr Easton, third on the list, not only knew where Nettlecombe was lodging, but had actually been summoned to attend him, when his lordship had suffered a severe attack of colic. "As far as I am aware," he said, austerely regarding Desford over the top of his spectacles, "his lordship has not removed from that lodging, but since he has not again sought my services I do not claim him as a patient. I will go further! Should he again request my attendance upon him I should have no hesitation in recommending him to consult some other physician more willing than I am, perhaps, to being told that his diagnosis is false, and to having his prescription spurned!"

Resisting an absurd but strong impulse to offer Dr Easton an apology for Nettlecombe's rudeness, Desford took his leave, saying that he was much obliged to him, and a.s.suring him, with a disarming smile, that he had all his sympathy.

It transpired that Nettlecombe's lodging was in one of the larger boarding-houses in the Lower town. It had an air of somewhat gloomy respectability, and was presided over by an angular lady whose appearance carried the suggestion that she must be in mourning for a near relation, since she wore a bombasine dress of sombre hue, without frills, or lace, or even a ribbon to lighten its sobriety. Her cap was of starched cambric, tied tightly beneath her chin; and as much of her hair as was allowed to be seen was iron-gray, and smoothed into bands as severe as her expression. She put Desford forcibly in mind of the dame in the village that lay beyond Wolversham who terrified the rural children into good behaviour and the rudiments of learning; and he would not have been in the least surprised to have seen a birch-rod on the high desk behind which she stood.

She was talking to an elderly couple, whose decorous bearing and prim voices exactly matched their surroundings, when Desford entered the house, but she broke off the conversation to direct a piercing look of appraisal at him, which made him feel that at any moment she would tell him that his neckcloth was crooked, or demand to know if he had washed his hands before venturing into her presence. His lips twitched, and his eyes began to dance, upon which her countenance relaxed, and, excusing herself to the elderly couple, she came towards him, saying, with a slight bow: "Yes, sir? What may I have the honour to do for you? If it is accommodation you are seeking, I regret I have none to offer: my house is always fully booked for the season."

"No, I don't want accommodation," he replied. "But I believe you have Lord Nettlecombe staying here. Is that so?"

Her face hardened again; she said grimly: "Yes, sir, it is so!"

It was apparent that the presence of Lord Nettlecombe in her house afforded her no gratification, and that Desford's enquiry had caused whatever good opinion she had formed of himself to wither at birth.

When he requested her to have his card taken to my lord she gave a small, contemptuous sniff, and without deigning to reply, turned away to call sharply to a waiter just about to enter the long room: "George!

Conduct this gentleman to Lord Nettlecombe's parlour!"

She then favoured the Viscount with a haughty inclination of her head, and resumed her conversation with the elderly couple.

Amused, but also a trifle ruffled by this cavalier treatment, Desford was on the verge of telling her that when he had handed her his card he had intended it to be taken to Lord Nettlecombe, not laid on her desk, when it occurred to him that perhaps it would be as well not to give his lordship the opportunity to refuse to see him, so he suppressed the impulse to give this ridiculously uppish creature a set-down, and followed the waiter up the stairs, and along a corridor. The waiter, whose air of profound gloom argued a life of intolerable slavery, but was probably due to the pain of flat feet,. stopped outside a door at the end of the corridor, and asked what name he should say, and, upon learning it, opened the door, and repeated it in a raised, indifferent voice.

"Eh? What's that?" demanded Lord Nettlecombe wrathfully. "I won't see him! What the devil do you mean by bringing people up here without my leave? Tell him to go away!"

"I fear you will be obliged to do that yourself, sir," said Desford, shutting the door upon the waiter, and coming forward. "Pray accept my apologies for not sending up my card! It was my intention to have done so, but the formidable lady below-stairs thought otherwise."

"That d.a.m.ned pigeon-fancier!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed his lordship fiercely. "She had the curst impudence to try to diddle me! But I'm no pigeon for her plucking, and so I told her! Gull-catcher! Slip-gibbet! Nail!" He broke off suddenly. "What do you want?" he snarled.

"A few words with you, sir," said the Viscount coolly.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you! I don't want to talk to anyone! If your name's Desford you must be old Wroxton's son, and he's no friend of mine, I'll have you know!"

"Oh, I do know it!" responded the Viscount, laying his hat, his gloves, and his malacca cane down on the table.

This indication that he meant to prolong his visit infuriated Nettlecombe so much that he said, in a kind of scream: "Don't do that!

Go away! Do you want to send me off the hooks? I'm a sick man! Worn to the bone with all the worry and trouble I've had! Burnt to the socket, d.a.m.n it! I won't have strangers thrust in on me, I tell you!"

"I'm sorry you are in such indifferent health," said Desford politely, "I will try not to tax your strength, but I have a duty to discharge which closely concerns you, and I believe-"

"If you've come from my son Jonas you've wasted your time!"

interrupted Nettlecombe, his pale eyes sharp with suspicion.

"I have not," said Desford, his calm voice in marked contrast to Nettlecombe's shrill accents. "I have come on behalf of your granddaughter."

"That's a d.a.m.ned quibble!" instantly exclaimed his lordship. "Jonas may take care of his brats himself, and so you may tell him! I wash my hands of the whole brood!"

"I am not speaking of Mr Jonas Steane's daughters, sir, but of your younger son's only child."

My lord's bony hands clenched the arms of his chair convulsively. "I have no younger son!"