Margot Asquith, an Autobiography Part 39

MARGOT: "You are absolutely right, dear mamma, and that is exactly what I have said to him more than once. But you need not worry, for no one saw us. Let's go to bed, darling, I'm dog-tired!"

Peter was thoroughly inconsequent about money and a great gambler; he told me one day in sorrow that his only chance of economising was to sell his horses and go to India to shoot big game, incidentally escaping his creditors.

When Peter went to India I was very unhappy, but to please my people I told them I would say good-bye and not write to him for a year, a promise which was faithfully kept.

While he was away, a young man of rank and fortune fell in love with me out hunting. He never proposed, he only declared himself.

I liked him particularly, but his attention sat lightly on me; this rather nettled him and he told me one day riding home in the dark, that he was sure I must be in love with somebody else. I said that it did not at all follow and that, if he were wise he would stop talking about love and go and buy himself some good horses for Leicesters.h.i.+re, where I was going in a week to hunt with Lord Manners. We were staying together at Cholmondeley Castle, in Ches.h.i.+re, with my beloved friend, Winifred Cholmondeley, [Footnote: The Marchioness of Cholmondeley.] then Lady Rocksavage. My new young man took my advice and went up to London, promising he would lend me "two of the best that money could buy" to take to Melton, where he proposed shortly to follow me.

When he arrived at Tattersalls there were several studs of well- known horses being sold: Jack Trotter's, Sir William Eden's and Lord Lonsdale's. Among the latter was a famous hunter, called Jack Madden, which had once belonged to Peter Flower; and my friend determined he would buy it for me. Some one said to him:

"I don't advise you to buy that horse, as you won't be able to ride it!"

(The fellow who related this to me added, "As you know, Miss Tennant, this is the only certain way by which you can sell any horse.")

Another man said: "I don't agree with you, the horse is all right; when it belonged to Flower I saw Miss Margot going like a bird on it. ..."

MY FRIEND: "Did Miss Tennant ride Flower's horses?"

At this the other fellow said:

"Why, my dear man, where HAVE you lived! ..."

Some months after I had ridden Jack Madden and my own horses over high Leicesters.h.i.+re, my friend came to see me and asked me to swear on my Bible oath that I would not give him away over a secret which he intended to tell me.

After I had taken my solemn oath he said: "Your friend Peter Flower in India was going to be put in the bankruptcy court and turned out of every club in London; so I went to Sam Lewis and paid his debt, but I don't want him to know about it and he never need, unless you tell him."

MARGOT: "What does he owe? And whom does he owe it to?"

MY FRIEND: "He owes ten thousand pounds, but I'm not at liberty to tell you who it's to; he is a friend of mine and a very good fellow. I can a.s.sure you that he has waited longer than most people would for Flower to pay him and I think he's done the right thing."

MARGOT: "Is Peter Flower a friend of yours?"

MY FRIEND: "I don't know him by sight and have never spoken to him in my life, but he's the man you're in love with and that is enough for me."

When the year was up and Peter--for all I knew--was still in India, I had made up my mind that, come what might, I would never, under any circ.u.mstances, renew my relations with him.

That winter I was staying with the Manners, as usual, and finding myself late for a near meet cut across country. Larking is always a stupid thing to do; horses that have never put a foot wrong generally refuse the smallest fence and rather than upset them at the beginning of the day you end by going through the gate, which you had better have done at first.

I had a mare called Molly Bawn, given to me by my fiance, who was the finest timber-jumper in Leicesters.h.i.+re, and, seeing the people at the meet watching me as I approached, I could not resist, out of pure swagger, jumping an enormous gate. I said to myself how disgusted Peter would have been at my vulgarity! But at the same time it put me in good spirits. Something, however, made me turn round; I saw a man behind me, jumping the fence beside my gate; and there was Peter Flower! He was in tearing spirits and told me with eagerness how completely he had turned over a new leaf and never intended doing this, that or the other again, as far the most wonderful thing had happened to him that ever happened to any one.

"I'm under a lucky star, Margie! By heavens I am! And the joy of seeing you is SO GREAT that I won't allude to the gate, or Molly Bawn, or you, or any thing ugly! Let us enjoy ourselves for once; and for G.o.d's sake don't scold me. Are you glad to see me? Let me look at you! Which do you love best, Molly Bawn or me? Don't answer but listen."

He then proceeded to tell me how his debts had been paid by Sam Lewis--the money-lender--through an unknown benefactor and how he had begged Lewis to tell who it was, but that he had refused, having taken his oath never to reveal the name. My heart beat and I said a remarkably stupid thing:

"How wonderful! But you'll have to pay him back, Peter, won't you?"

PETER: "Oh, indeed! Then perhaps you can tell me who it is ..."

MARGOT: "How can I?"

PETER: "Do you know who it is?"

MARGOT: "I do not."

I felt the c.o.c.k ought to have crowed, but I said nothing; and Peter was so busy greeting his friends in the field that I prayed he had not observed my guilty face.

Some days after this there was a race meeting at Leicester. Lord Lonsdale took a special at Oakham for the occasion and the Manners, Peter and I all went to the races. When I walked into the paddock, I saw my new friend--the owner of Jack Madden--talking to the Prince of Wales. When we joined them, the Prince suggested that we should go and see Mrs. Langtry's horse start, as it was a great rogue and difficult to mount.

As we approached the Langtry horse, the crowd made way for us and I found my friend next to me; on his other side was Peter Flower and then the Prince. The horse had his eyes bandaged and one of his forelegs was being held by a stable-boy. When the jockey was up and the bandage removed, it jumped into the air and gave an extended and violent buck. I was standing so near that I felt the draught of its kick on my hair. At this my friend gave a slight scream and, putting his arm round me, pulled me back towards him.

A miss is as good as a mile, so after thanking him for his protection I chatted cheerfully to the Prince of Wales.

There is nothing so tiring as racing and we all sat in perfect silence going home in the special that evening.

Neither at dinner nor after had I any opportunity of speaking to Peter, but I observed a singularly impa.s.sive expression on his face. The next day--being Sunday--I asked him to go round the stables with me after church; he refused, so I went alone. After dinner I tried again to talk to him, but he would not answer; he did not look angry, but he appeared to be profoundly sad, which depressed me. He told Hoppy Manners he was not going to hunt that week as he feared he would have to be in London. My heart sank. We all went to our rooms early and Peter remained downstairs reading.

As he never read in winter I knew there was something seriously wrong, so I went down in my tea-gown to see him. It was nearly midnight. The room was empty and we were alone. He never looked up.

MARGOT: "Peter, you've not spoken to me once since the races. What can have happened?"

PETER: "I would rather you left me, PLEASE. ... Pray go back to your room."

MARGOT (sitting on the sofa beside him): "Won't you speak to me and tell me all about it?"

Peter put down his book, and looking at me steadily, said very slowly:

"I'd rather not speak to a liar!"

I stood up as if I had been shot and said:

"How dare you say such a thing!"

PETER: "You lied to me."

MARGOT: "When?"

PETER: "You know perfectly well! And you are in love! You know you are. Will you deny it?"

"Oh! it's this that worries you, is it?" said I sweetly. "What would you say if I told you I was NOT?"

PETER: "I would say you were lying again."

MARGOT: "Have I ever lied to you, Peter?"

PETER: "How can I tell? (SHRUGGING HIS SHOULDERS) You have lied twice, so I presume since I've been away you've got into the habit of it."

MARGOT: "Peter!"

PETER: "A man doesn't scream and put his arm round a woman, as D-- ly did at the races to-day, unless he is in love. Will you tell me who paid my debt, please?"