The Quiet Gentleman

As the cousins rode through the archway, a sporting curricle came into sight, drawn up by the steps leading to the front-door. A smart-looking groom was standing at the heads of the wheelers; and the equipage plainly belonged to someone aspiring to the highest crack of fashion, since it was drawn by four horses. This made Theo exclaim that he could not imagine who could have come to visit Stanyon in such a turn-out. He sounded scornful, but Gervase said in mock-reproof that he showed a shocking ignorance. “A curricle-and-four, my dear Theo, is the mark of the Nonesuch, let me tell you! Now, whom have you in Lincolnshire who — Good God! I should know those horses!” He spurred forward as he spoke, and a gentleman in a driving-coat of white drab, and a hat with a high, conical crown and beaver brim, who had been conferring with Abney at the head of the wide stone steps, turned, saw him, and came down the steps again, calling out: “Hallo, there, Ger! Turn out, man! the enemy is upon you!”

“Lucy, by all that’s wonderful!” the Earl ejaculated, sliding from the saddle, and gripping both his friend’s hands. “My dear fellow! Where have you sprung from?”

“Been staying with the Caldbecks, dear old boy,” explained his visitor. “Couldn’t leave the country without seeing you! Now don’t, don’t think yourself bound to invite me to put up here! My man is following me with all my baggage, but I see how it is — you have no room!”

An airy gesture indicated the sprawling pile behind the speaker; a pair of bright eyes quizzed the Earl, who laughed, and retorted: “An attic — we will find room for you in an attic! Theo, can we house this fellow, do you think? My cousin, Lucy — Theo, this is Captain Lucius Austell — oh, no! I beg pardon! It is Lord Ulverston! When did you sell out, Lucy?”

“Not so long after you,” replied Ulverston, exchanging a cordial handshake with Theo. “M’father felt, when m’grandfather died, that he couldn’t have the three of us serving, so it fell to me to sell out. I told him I might as easily be killed in the streets of London as on any military service — never saw such a rabble of traffic in my life! Lisbon’s nothing to it, dear boy! — but nothing would do for him but to have me in England!”

By this time, Theo had grasped that his cousin’s friend was the heir to the Earl of Wrexham, who had lately succeeded to his father’s dignities. He enquired civilly after his youngest brother, Cornelius, whom he had once met in the house of a common acquaintance, and the Viscount replied, with the insouciance which characterized him: “Haven’t a notion how he is! Think he’s on the West Indian station, but these naval fellows, you know, jaunter about the world so that there’s no keeping up with them at all! Corney means to be a Rear or a Vice, or some such thing, but with the Frogs rompe’d, and poor old Boney sent off to some curst island or another, devil a bit of promotion will there be! Said so to Freddy, when I sold out, but he’s just got his company, and thinks he’ll command the regiment in a brace of shakes. D’you know my brother Freddy? No? Very dull dog: ought to have been the eldest! Often thought so!”

The Earl, who had been inspecting the horses, interrupted, saying over his shoulder: “How do you like ‘em, Lucy?”

“Why, you old horse-chaunter, didn’t you sell ‘em to me with a warranty they were sixteen-mile-an-hour tits? Not a second above fifteen-and-a-half — word of a gentleman! Now, Ger, why did you sell ‘em to me? Four good ‘uns — complete to a shade!”

“Oh, my cousin preached economy to me! You may say they are my breakdowns!”

“Economy!” exclaimed Theo. “Pray, what did you give for your grays?”

“Grays?” said the Viscount. “Ger, not Bingham’s grays? Well, by God, if I had known he had a mind to sell them — !”

His cloak-bag having been unstrapped from the back of the curricle, and borne into the house, the Viscount waved dismissal to his henchman, saying: “Take ‘em away, Clarence! take ‘em away!” and tucked a hand in the Earl’s arm. “Well, old fellow, how does it suit you after all? You look pretty stout!”

Theo took his bridle from Gervase, saying that he must go to the stables, and would lead Orthes. Gervase smiled his thanks, and led the Viscount into the Castle.

“I hope you mean to stay at Stanyon for several weeks, Lucy,” he said. “I warn you, however, that it is a dreadful place! I daresay my stepmother will dislike it excessively that you have come to visit me — and in such

a rig!”

“Ger! The Four-Horse Club!” protested the Viscount, shocked.

“I am aware. She will think you a coxcomb, and you will leave Stanyon tomorrow, routed by her Roman nose!”

“Parrot-faced, is she?” said the Viscount, interested. “Lay you a monkey she don’t peck me! Dear boy, did you ever see my aunts? Three of ‘em, all parrot-faced, and all hot at hand! Father’s frightened of ‘em — m’mother’s frightened of ‘em — Freddy won’t face ‘em! Only person who can handle ‘em’s me! No bamming — true as I stand here! Ask anyone!”