Muswell Hill.
The next day Turlington drove to the suburbs, on the chance of finding the Graybrookes at home again. Sir Joseph disliked London, and could not prevail on himself to live any nearer to the metropolis than Muswell Hill. When Natalie wanted a change, and languished for balls, theaters, flower-shows, and the like, she had a room especially reserved for her in the house of Sir Joseph's married sister, Mrs. Sancroft, living in that central deep of the fashionable whirlpool known among mortals as Berkeley Square.
On his way through the streets, Turlington encountered a plain proof that the Graybrookes must have returned. He was passed by Launce, driving, in company with a gentleman, in a cab. The gentleman was Launce's brother, and the two were on their way to the Commissioners of Police to make the necessary arrangements for instituting an inquiry into Turlington's early life.
Arrived at the gate of the villa, the information received only partially fulfilled the visitor's expectations. The family had returned on the previous evening. Sir Joseph and his sister were at home, but Natalie was away again already. She had driven into town to lunch with her aunt. Turlington went into the house.
"Have you lost any money?" Those were the first words uttered by Sir Joseph when he and Richard met again, after the parting on board the yacht.
"Not a farthing. I might have lost seriously, if I had not got back in time to set things straight. Stupidity on the part of my people left in charge--nothing more. It's all right now."Sir Joseph lifted his eyes, with heartfelt devotion, to the ceiling. "Thank God, Richard!" he said, in tones of the deepest feeling. He rang the bell. "Tell Miss Graybrooke Mr. Turlington is here." He turned again to Richard. "Lavinia is like me--Lavinia has been so anxious about you. We have both of us passed a sleepless night." Miss Lavinia came in. Sir Joseph hurried to meet her, and took her affectionately by both hands. "My dear!
the best of all good news, Richard has not lost a farthing." Miss Lavinia lifted _her_ eyes to the ceiling with heartfelt devotion, and said, "Thank God, Richard!"--like the echo of her brother's voice; a little late, perhaps, for its reputation as an echo, but accurate to half a note in its perfect repetition of sound.
Turlington asked the question which it had been his one object to put in paying his visit to Muswell Hill.
"Have you spoken to Natalie?"
"This morning," replied Sir Joseph. "An opportunity offered itself after breakfast. I took advantage of it, Richard--you shall hear how."He settled himself in his chair for one of his interminable stories; he began his opening sentence--and stopped, struck dumb at the first word. There was an unexpected obstacle in the way--his sister was not attending to him; his sister had silenced him at starting. The story touching, this time, on the question of marriage, Miss Lavinia had her woman's interest in seeing full justice done to the subject. She seized on her brother's narrative as on property in her own right.
"Joseph should have told you," she began, addressing herself to Turlington, "that our dear girl was unusually depressed in spirits this morning. Quite in the right frame of mind for a little serious talk about her future life. She ate nothing at breakfast, poor child, but a morsel of dry toast.""And marmalade," said Sir Joseph, striking in at the first opportunity. The story, on this occasion, being Miss Lavinia's story, the polite contradictions necessary to its successful progress were naturally transferred from the sister to the brother, and became contradictions on Sir Joseph's side.
"No," said Miss Lavinia, gently, "if you _will_ have it, Joseph--jam."
"I beg your pardon," persisted Sir Joseph; "marmalade.""What _does_ it matter, brother?"
"Sister! the late great and good Doctor Johnson said accuracy ought always to be studied even in the most trifling things.""You _will_ have your way, Joseph"--(this was the formula--answering to Sir Joseph's "Let us waive the point"--which Miss Lavinia used, as a means of conciliating her brother, and getting a fresh start for her story). "Well, we took dear Natalie out between us, after breakfast, for a little walk in the grounds. My brother opened the subject with infinite delicacy and tact.
'Circumstances,' he said, 'into which it was not then necessary to enter, made it very desirable, young as she was, to begin to think of her establishment in life.' And then he referred, Richard (so nicely), to your faithful and devoted attachment--""Excuse me, Lavinia. I began with Richard's attachment, and then I got on to her establishment in life.""Excuse _me_, Joseph. You managed it much more delicately than you suppose. You didn't drag Richard in by the head and shoulders in that way.""Lavinia! I began with Richard."
"Joseph! your memory deceives you."
Turlington's impatience broke through all restraint.
