A Heart-Song of To-day Part 21

"Yes, I like it," said Mrs. Wingfield; "I can't live in the shade, and Mr. Bertram has me to adore for giving him the sun-light of this dwelling. I saw by the papers he was to make his exodus from London, so I telegraphed him to come here, and bring on a box of French novels we had forgotten."

"One does sometimes forget the most important part of one's luggage,"

said Vaura.

"But," said Trevalyon, "I'll wager Bertram did not forget your mental food."

"Not he, with his aldermanic taste for spicy dishes," said Vaura.

"No, the temptation would be too much for him, with the _piece de resistance_, an uninteresting husband, side dish, paragon lover, _entree_, neglected wife with flavourings thrown in, scandals, duels, etc.," said Trevalyon.

"How well he knows the condiments," remarked their host in sly tones, and rubbing his hands softly; "but talking of condiments, reminds one of dinner, and that Everly should be here."

"I hear a footstep on the hill which doesn't grow fainter, fainter still," said Mrs. Wingfield.

"Here we are again," said Sir Tilton Everly, entering, and shaking hands with all, continued: "I hope, Bertram, I havn't kept your dinner waiting."

"No, no, my dear fellow, my dinner waits for no man."

"You see our gallant host makes an exception in our favour, Sir Tilton," said Lady Esmondet.

"He considers the length of our toilette," said Mrs. Wingfield.

"And train," laughed Vaura, as Trevalyon caught his foot in her trailing skirts, in crossing behind to offer his arm.

"Go where one will," said Trevalyon, covered by the hum of voices; "one is sure to fall in with Everly."

"Yes, uncle Eric says he reminds him of the clown at a circus, with his cherry cry of 'here I am again.'"

"He seemed to me to be a sort of pet monkey of Mrs. Haughton; I hope he will not deem it necessary to transfer his little attentions to you, or I shall feel inclined to tell him that I am your knight _pour le present_, and show him my colours, in shape of telegram from your uncle (if I may not wear yours)," he added in persuasive tones.

"You can still be my knight errant," and her soulful eyes turn to his face, "he, one of my retainers."

"No divided honours for me, _ma belle_."

Here their chit-chat is interrupted by the subject of their converse, addressing Miss Vernon, across the table.

"Just come from Haughton Hall, Miss Vernon?"

"Yes."

"All well I hope? more especially my uncle."

"Never saw him looking better; I just ran down for twenty-four hours."

"How is the place looking? I don't mean the exterior, the park and grounds are always beautiful (and thank heaven cannot change), but the interior."

"Gorgeous! never saw anything to equal it."

"The festivities were brilliant, I presume?"

"Should say so; the county were tongue-tied in admiration; couldn't find words."

"You had no time for the birds, Everly, I suppose," said Trevalyon.

"Yes, a couple of hours of it; and what with the ball, dinner, fireworks, hurrahs, &c., and killing of birds--"

"And young women," cried Mrs. Wingfield.

"But in the time," laughed small Everly, "we really made some fine running on the feathered tribe."

"Ostrich feathered?" said Vaura.

"Nay, let him alone for that; else would Mrs. Haughton have made some running or gone for him? excuse the slang," said Mrs. Wingfield, mischievously.

"Many of us would be sportsmen in the case of a rival," said Vaura.

"The divided skirt would come to the front with pistols and coffee for two," cried Bertram.

"Yes, I should give her all the mud my tongue could throw," said gay Mrs. Wingfield.

"There will be sport in Hall as field, when the hounds meet, if I'm not mistaken," said the newsy little baronet.

"Why, how so? Sir Tilton," exclaimed Vaura.

"Well, you see, Miss Vernon, there was a lively discussion at luncheon one day as to the next meet; when Mrs. Haughton announced her intention of following the hounds, the Colonel objected on the ground of non-experience."

"No," said Lady Esmondet; "Rotten Row is her experience, and 'tis scarcely a hunting field."

"Unless for the praise of men," said Vaura.

"Or a husband," cried Mrs. Wingfield.

"But about the field, Sir Tilton; do you think Mrs. Haughton will take it?" asked Vaura.

"I am sure she will, for I overheard her the same day make a bet of L500 that she'd ride grey Jessie with the hounds next meet."

"So, so!" exclaimed Bertram, "the lady means it."

"And who might the favoured partic.i.p.ator in her bet be, Everly?"

enquired Trevalyon carelessly.

"With Major Delrose, late of the --th Middles.e.x Lancers."

"With Delrose!" exclaimed Trevalyon, now fully aroused; "is Delrose at Haughton?" and as he spoke he gave a swift glance at Lady Esmondet, who thought silently, "Delrose, the man who was mixed up in some way with Lionel in the f.a.n.n.y Clarmont scandal; there will be mischief."

"No, left same train as I did, very unwillingly though; extracted a promise from Mrs. Haughton, that if time hangs heavy, he may return; amusing fellow, though the Colonel doesn't seem to take to him."

"Not the same stamp of man," said Bertram.