Hero lifted her wrist to her cheek, and held it there for some moments after he had gone. She felt a strong inclination to cry, and concluded that she must indeed be tired, since she knew very well that she had nothing whatsoever to cry about, but, on the contrary, everything in the world to make her happy. On this elevating thought she retired to her bed-chamber, and talked in a very cheerful way to her abigail while she was undressed and put to bed.
Sherry, who did not return to the house until the small hours, put in no appearance at the breakfast-table. When he did emerge from his bedchamber, it was past eleven o’clock, and not only was he clad in a dressing-gown, but he still looked remarkably heavy eyed. He said simply that they had had a pretty batch of it at Brockenhurst’s, and also that he was dipped a little at hazard. Altogether, Hero did not think that it would be wise to remind him that they had planned to wait upon his mother at noon. He retired again to his room, irritably demanding why the devil Bootle had not brought up the water for his shave; and Hero was just deciding that it would be pleasant to go for an airing in Hyde Park in her barouche, when the first of her morning callers knocked on the door.
It was Mrs Bagshot, bringing her two elder daughters in her train. She came sailing into the drawing-room, almost before Groombridge had had time to announce her, paused in the middle of the floor, and, after throwing an appraising glance round, uttered the one word: ‘Well!’
Hero rose from her chair in some confusion, and came forward, blushing faintly, and stammering: ‘C-cousin J-Jane! C-Cassy! Eudora! How do you do?’
‘I wonder you can look me in the face!’ said Mrs Bagshot. Her eyes ran over Hero’s high-necked gown of worked French muslin, with its double flounce and rows of tucks. ‘Upon my word!’ she said. ‘I dare say you have never worn such a dress in your life!’
This was an unfortunate observation, since it gave Hero the opportunity to retort: ‘You must know that I have not, cousin!’
‘Whatever have you done to your hair?’ demanded Cassandra. ‘You look so strange! I should scarcely have known you.’
‘It is the very latest fashion,’ replied Hero. ‘My maid did it.’
Mrs Bagshot gave a short laugh. ‘Fine feathers make fine birds! I see that you have set yourself up in the very latest mode. I suppose we shall have you setting up your carriage, and renting your box at the opera, in imitation of your betters. When I consider – However, I did not come to quarrel with you, and heaven knows I am thankful to see you creditably established, even though you may have had to accept an offer made to you in a fit of pique to do it. I am sure it would not surprise me to find that you are now too grand to recognise the humble cousins who gave you a home when you were left destitute upon the world.’
‘No,’ said Hero seriously. ‘Indeed, I am not so ungrateful! And I would be glad to try to find husbands for my cousins, if I could, only Sherry says –’ She broke off short, colouring to the roots of her hair, the most comical expression of dismay on her face.
‘And pray what may your husband say?’ demanded Mrs Bagshot in menacing accents.
‘I’ve forgotten!’ said Hero desperately.
‘I abhor prevarication,’ remarked Eudora. ‘I am sure you need not fear to repeat what he said, for it does not matter a fig to us what such a rackety young man may say!’
Stung by this criticism of her idol, Hero retorted without hesitation: ‘Well, he said he wouldn’t have you in the house, because he doesn’t like you!’
Mrs Bagshot turned quite purple, and struggled in vain for words. Before she could find any at all adequate to the situation, Hero had said penitently: ‘Oh, I beg your pardon! But Eudora should not have said that about Sherry! Do, pray, sit down, Cousin Jane, and – and let me ring for Groombridge to bring some fruit, and a glass of wine!’
Mrs Bagshot coldly refused this offer of refreshment, but she condescended to seat herself on the sofa, remarking as she did so that she was sorry to see that her exalted position had not led Hero to mend her manners. Her daughters wandered about the room, inspecting the furniture, criticising the colour of the hangings, and wondering how Hero could bear to have a canary deafening her with its odious noise. Hero replied to their strictures and exclamations with what patience she could muster, and tried to counter Mrs Bagshot’s extremely searching questions with dignity and civility.
She was succeeding very well when the door opened to admit Sherry, who came in all unawares, saying: ‘Here’s a damned thing, Kitten! That fool of a man of mine has lost my –’
What Bootle had lost they were not destined to learn, for Sherry, perceiving the morning-callers, broke off in mid-sentence, ejaculated: ‘My God!’ in accents of horror, and retired precipitately.
Hero made a desperate attempt to keep her countenance, failed, and went into a peal of laughter. Her affronted relativerose majestically, and, addressing her daughters, said in a terrible voice: ‘Come, my loves! It is plain that we are not welcome in your cousin’s house.’
‘Oh, pray do not take a pet, Cousin Jane!’ begged Hero. ‘It – it is just that poor Sherry is not feeling quite the thing to-day! He will be sorry presently, I dare say.’
Mrs Bagshot, however, was adamant, and was in the act of delivering herself of a severe valedictory speech when a welcome diversion was caused by Groombridge’s announcing Lord Wrotham.
George came in with his usual impetuosity, and with the inevitable lock of raven hair straying across his romantic brow. He grasped his hostess’s hand warmly, saying: ‘I heard you was come up from the country! How do you do? You look to be in famous shape! What a capital little place you have here! It is just the thing, Kitten!’
‘Oh, George, I am so glad to see you!’ Hero said. ‘Oh, do you – are you acquainted with Lord Wrotham, Cousin Jane?’
Mrs Bagshot bowed, but lost no time in shepherding her daughters out of the room. She was naturally unable to suppose that any man could look upon these damsels without experiencing a start of admiration, and although his lordship had the undoubted advantage of being a peer of the realm it was well known that his pockets were (in vulgar parlance) pretty well to let. She scolded Hero, who escorted her downstairs to the front door, on the impropriety of encouraging familiarity from so unstable a young man, and expressed the pious hope that the oddity of her manners would not be her ruin.
Having seen her relative off the premises, Hero sped upstairs again, and danced into the drawing-room, exclaiming: ‘Oh, George, I was never so glad to see anyone! She was scolding me dreadfully when you walked in upon us, and I thought she would never go! I don’t know where Sherry has hiddenhimself: only fancy! – he came in here, not having the least notion my cousins were with me, and he cried outMy God!and ran out of the room! It was the drollest thing! Did you come to find him?’
‘No, no – though I shall be happy to see him, of course! I came to pay my respects, and to leave my card, and to discover if you would care to watch a balloon ascension at three o’clock?’
Hero was naturally delighted with this proposal, and said that there was nothing she would like better. ‘How kind it is in you to be thinking of me, George! Indeed, I thank youverymuch!’
‘No such thing! I assure you – Well, I thought perhaps you might not have witnessed the spectacle. It is an odd circumstance that Miss Milborne has not either. She has a great fancy to see it, only, as it chances, Mrs Milborne is engaged with some friends, and so the whole project must come to nothing, unless –’ a disarmingly ingenuous smile swept across his face – ‘Oh, hang it, Kitten, the long and the short of it is that if you would but offer to take her up in your carriage, I think Miss Milborne would like it excessively! If you could but persuade Sherry to make one of the party, nothing could be more snug!’
‘George, you are the most complete hand!’ Hero told him, borrowing from Sherry’s vocabulary. ‘I have a good mind to bring my cousin Cassy instead of Miss Milborne. How confounded you would look!’
‘I swear you are the best of good fellows!’ George exclaimed. ‘Well, no! I don’t mean that! What am I saying? I declare I am so up in the world to-day – or I shall be, if only you will send a note round to Green Street, to beg Miss Milborne to bear you company!’
