When the Duke and his daughter reached Custins they found a large party assembled, and were somewhat surprised at the crowd. Lord and Lady Nidderdale were there, which might have been expected as they were part of the family. With Lord Popplecourt had come his recent friend Adolphus Longstaff. That too might have been natural. Mr and Miss Boncassen were there also, who at this moment were quite strangers to the Duke; and Mr Lupton. The Duke also found Lady Chiltern, whose father-in-law had more than once sat in the same Cabinet with himself, and Mr Monk, who was generally spoken of as the head of the coming Liberal Government, and the Ladies Adelaide and Flora FitzHoward, the still unmarried but not very juvenile daughters of the Duke of St Bungay. These with a few others made a large party, and rather confused the Duke, who had hardly reflected that discreet and profitable love-making was more likely to go on among numbers, than if the two young people were thrown together with no other companions.
Lord Popplecourt had been made to understand what was expected of him, and after some hesitation had submitted himself to the conspiracy. There would not be less at any rate than two hundred thousand pounds,--and the connection would be made with one of the highest families in Great Britain. Though Lady Cantrip had said very few words, those words had been expressive; and the young bachelor peer had given in his adhesion. Some vague half-defined tale had been told him,--not about Tregear, as Tregear's name had not been mentioned,--but respecting some dream of a young man who had flitted across the girl's path during her mother's lifetime.
'All girls have such dreams,' Lady Cantrip had suggested.
Whereupon Lord Popplecourt said that he supposed it was so. 'But a softer, purer, more unsullied flower never waited upon its stalk till the proper fingers should choose to come and pluck it,' said Lady Cantrip, rising to unaccustomed poetry on behalf of her friend the Duke. Lord Popplecourt accepted the poetry and was ready to do his best to pluck the flower.
Soon after the Duke's arrival Lord Popplecourt found himself in one of the drawing-rooms with Lady Cantrip and his propose father-in-law. A hint had been given him that he might as well be home early from shooting, so as to be in the way. As the hour in which he was to make himself specially agreeable, both to the father and to the daughter, had drawn nigh, he became somewhat nervous, and now, at this moment, was not altogether comfortable. Though he had been concerned in no such matter before, he had an idea that love was a soft kind of thing which ought to steal on one unawares and come and go without trouble. In his case it came upon him with a rough demand for immediate hard work. He had not previously thought that he was to be subjected to such labours, and at this moment almost resented the interference with his ease. He was already a little angry with Lady Cantrip, but at the same time felt himself to be so much in subjection to her that he could not rebel.
The Duke himself when he saw the young man was hardly more comfortable. He had brought his daughter to Custins, feeling that it was his duty to be with her; but he would have preferred to leave the whole operation to the care of Lady Cantrip. He hardly liked to look at the fish whom he wished to catch for his daughter. Whenever this aspect of affairs presented itself to him, he would endeavour to console himself by remembering the past success of a similar transaction. He thought of his own first interview with his wife. 'You have heard,' he said, 'what our friends wish.' She had pouted her lips, and when gently pressed had at last muttered, with her shoulder turned to him, that she supposed it was to be so. very much coercion had been used to her than either himself or Lady Cantrip had dared to apply to his daughter. He did not think that his girl in her present condition of mind would signify to Lord Popplecourt that she 'supposed it was to be so'. Now that the time for the transaction was present he felt almost sure that it would never be transacted. But still he must go on with it. Were he now to abandon his scheme, would it not be tantamount to abandoning everything? So he wreathed his face in smiles,--or made some attempt at it,--as he greeted the young man.
'I hope you and Lady Mary had a pleasant journey abroad,' said Lord Popplecourt. Lord Popplecourt being aware that he had been chosen as a son-in-law felt himself called upon to be familiar as well as pleasant. 'I often thought of you and Lady Mary, and wondered what you were about.'
'We were visiting lakes and mountains, churches and picture galleries, cities, and salt mines,' said the Duke.
'Does Lady Mary like that sort of thing?'
'I think she was pleased with what she saw.
'She has been abroad a great deal before, I believe. It depends so much on whom you meet when abroad.'
This was unfortunate because it recalled Tregear to the Duke's mind. 'We saw very few people whom we knew,' he said.
'I've been shooting in Scotland with Silverbridge, and Gerald, and Reginald Dobbes, and Nidderdale,--and that fellow Tregear, who is so thick with Silverbridge.'
'Indeed!'
'I'm told that Lord Gerald is going to be the great shot of the day,' said Lady Cantrip.
'It is a distinction,' said the Duke bitterly.
'He did not beat me by so much,' continued Popplecourt. 'I think Tregear did the best with his rifle. One morning he potted three.
Dobbes was disgusted. He hated Tregear.'
'Isn't it stupid,--half-a-dozen men getting together in that way?' asked Lady Cantrip.
'Nidderdale is always jolly.'
'I am glad to hear that,' said the mother-in-law.
'And Gerald is a regular brick.' the Duke bowed. 'Silverbridge used always to be going off to Killancodlem, where there were a lot of ladies. He is very sweet, you know, on this American girl whom you have here.' Again the Duke winced. 'Dobbes is awfully good as to making out the shooting, but then he his a tyrant.
