‘No, no, don’t do that! Should you like it if I were to try if I can discover Isabella’s feelings upon this occasion?’
‘Thank you! I have observed her to be in excellent spirits!’ he said bitterly. ‘That one so fair should be so heartless!’
‘Indeed, I am sure she is no such thing! She has a little reserve, perhaps, and she does not confide in one, but I feel quite certain Severn has not engaged her affections.’
He was silent for a moment, pleating and repleating the handkerchief he held, his attention apparently absorbed in this foolish task. His lip quivered; he said in a hard voice: ‘She will marry him for his possessions, and his rank. It is plain enough.’
‘Oh, no! You are unjust, George! She has more heart than you believe.’
‘Once I believed –’ He stopped, and dropped his head in his hands, with a groan. ‘It don’t signify! I beg your pardon! I should not be boring on about my affairs. But you cannot know the anguish of having one’s love scorned, indeed, I dare say hardly regarded!’
‘Dear George, do not say so!’ Hero besought him, putting up her hand to smooth his unruly locks. ‘I know – oh, I know! But do not allow yourself to think there is no hope of her affections animating towards you! It cannot be but that if one truly loves –’ Her voice became suspended; she was obliged to wipe a tear from her cheek.
He put his arm round her, in a brotherly way, and gave her a slight hug. ‘Yes, yes, where there is a heart to be won, of course you are right, Kitten! But inmycase –! There, do not let us dwell upon it any longer! I am the greatest brute alive: I have made you cry, and I would not do so for the world!’
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Only for your sake, dear George! Indeed, I am the happiest creature imaginable, in – in general!’
He turned her face up. ‘Are you? I hope you may be, for you deserve to be.’
She smiled mistily, and because it seemed a natural thing to do under the circumstances, he bent his head, and kissed her.
There was nothing at all passionate in this embrace, and Hero had no hesitation in receiving it in the spirit in which it was clearly meant. Unfortunately, Sherry chose this precise moment to walk into the room with Ferdy and Mr Ringwood. Having imbibed enough champagne punch to restore him to his usual buoyancy, he had recollected his duty, and was looking for his wife, to do her the honour of dancing with her. He was indebted to Mr Ringwood for the knowledge of her whereabouts, but it is doubtful if either Mr Ringwood or Ferdy would have accompanied him on his quest had they known in what a situation he was to find his bride. He arrived in excellent time to see Lord Wrotham, one hand under Hero’s chin, plant his kiss on her pretty lips. One moment he stood transfixed, the next he uttered a crashing oath, and took a hasty stride forward. Mr Ringwood, recovering from his own stupefaction, closed with him, just as George, flushing vividly, sprang to his feet.
‘Sherry!’ Mr Ringwood said warningly. ‘For God’s sake, dear boy, remember where you are! You can’t choke George to death here!’
George folded his arms, and curled his lip sardonically, looking extremely noble and romantic, and awaiting events with a sparkle in his eye. Hero, faintly surprised by her carelesshusband’s extraordinary behaviour, said without the least trace of guilt, or discomposure: ‘Why, Sherry, what is the matter? Were you looking for me?’
‘Yes, by God, I was!’ replied Sherry, wrenching free from Mr Ringwood’s grasp. ‘Damn you, Gil, let go!’
Ferdy, who had been standing with his mouth open, staring, suddenly rose superbly to the occasion, and offered his arm to Hero with a graceful bow. ‘Let me escort you back to the ballroom!’ he said.
‘Yes, but – Sherry, you must not mind George’s kissing me!’ said Hero, looking from one to the other in a little dismay. ‘Indeed, there was not the least harm in it, was there, George?’
‘Dear Kitten,’ promptly replied George, bowing with even more grace than Ferdy, ‘there was much pleasure!’
Horrified at such provocative behaviour, Ferdy exchanged one startled glance with Mr Ringwood, and bore Hero out of the room.
‘Of course there wasn’t any harm in it!’ said Mr Ringwood. ‘All the same, you oughtn’t to kiss Sherry’s wife, George, and as for you, Sherry, if you hadn’t drunk so much champagne punch you’d have more sense than to kick up a dust over – dash it, you know what I mean! She’s as innocent as a new-born lamb!’
‘She!’ the Viscount ejaculated. He ground his teeth in a very alarming manner, and rolled a fiery eye at Wrotham. ‘I don’t need you to tell me my wife’s innocent, I thank you, Gil! But as for that – that rake, that wolf in sheep’s clothing, that – that commoner –’
‘No, dash it, Sherry, you can’t call George a commoner!’ protested Mr Ringwood. ‘All a mistake! George wouldn’t – I wish to God you will stop standing there looking like a hero, George, and beg Sherry’s pardon!’
‘Never,’ said Wrotham flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve with a flourish of his handkerchief, ‘in my life have I begged any man’s pardon!’
‘Nothing in that, George!’ said Ferdy, who had just come back into the room. ‘Never know what you may come to! Why, look at me! Always swore I’d never bet on a horse with three white stockings, but I did it, and look what came of it! Won in a canter! All goes to show!’
The Viscount ignored this helpful intervention, and, heedless of an anguished plea from Mr Ringwood, cast to the winds the guiding principle which had carried him scatheless through several years of intimacy with Lord Wrotham. ‘Name your friends, my lord!’ he said fiercely.
‘Sherry!’ almost wailed Mr Fakenham. ‘Consider, dear boy! Not yourself! Can’t be in your senses! Put it down to the champagne! Pay no heed to him, George!’
Lord Wrotham, however, replied promptly: ‘With the greatest pleasure on earth! Gil, will you serve me?’
‘You can’t have Gil!’ exclaimed the Viscount hotly. ‘I’m going to have him myself!’
‘Oh, no, you ain’t!’ retorted George, abandoning his heroics. ‘You can have Ferdy.’
‘I shall name both FerdyandGil,’ said the Viscount loftily.
