"It is Lord George Alastair," said Judith. She moved towards him, by no means pleased at the advent of this uninvited guest.
He came at once to meet her. His bow was perfection: the look that went with it was that of a schoolboy detected in crime. "Lady Worth?"
"Yes," she acknowledged. "You - !"
"I know! I know! You're not acquainted with me - don't know me from Adam - wonder how the deuce I got in!"
She was obliged to smile. "Indeed, I do know you. You are Lord George Alastair."
"Oh, come now, that's famous! I daresay you won't have me thrown out after all."
"I am sure it would be a very difficult task," she said. "You have come in search of your sister, I expect? She is here, and your brother too. I think they must both be in the farther salon. Shall we go and find them?"
"Devilish good of you, Lady Worth. But don't put yourself out on my account: I'll find 'em."
She saw that he was looking beyond her, at someone at the other end of the room. She glanced in the same direction, and discovered that the object of his gaze was none other than Miss Devenish. It was plain that Lucy was aware of being stared at; she was blushing uncomfortably, and had cast down her eyes.
"I will show you the way to your sister," said Judith firmly.
"Thank you - in a moment!" said his lordship, with cool impudence. "I have seen a lady I know. Must pay my respects!"
He left her side as he spoke, and bore ruthlessly down upon Miss Devenish. She was seated on a sofa, and cast such a scared look up at George that Judith felt impelled to go to her rescue. George was towering over her - enough to frighten any girl! thought Judith indignantly - and Lucy had half risen from the sofa, and then sunk back again.
By the time Judith, delayed by Mr Creevey in the middle of the room, reached her, George had not only shaken hands, but had seated himself beside her. His eyes were fixed on her downcast face with an ardent expression Judith much disliked, and a teasing smile, as impish as his sister's, curled his lips. When Judith came up he rose. "I am recalling myself to Miss Devenish's memory," he said. "It's my belief she had forgotten me."
"I was not aware that you were acquainted with Lord George, my dear?" Judith said, a question in her voice.
"Oh!" faltered Lucy. "We met once - at a ball!"
"If that is all, it is no wonder that you were forgotten, Lord George!" Judith said.
"All! No such thing! Miss Devenish, can you look me in the face and say we met only once, at a ball?"
She did look him in the face, but with such an expression of reproach in her eyes as must have abashed any but an Alastair. She replied in a low voice, and with a good deal of dignity: "It is true that we have several times met: I do not forget it."
She got up as she spoke, and with a slight inclination of her head moved away to where her aunt was seated.Lord George looked after her for a moment, and then turned to his hostess, saying briskly: "Where's Bab? Inanother salon? I'll go and find her. Now, don't bother your head about me, Lady Worth, I beg! I shall do very well."
She was perfectly willing to let him go, and with a nod and a smile he was off, making his way across the crowded room through the double doors leading into the farther salon. These had been thrown open, and as he approached them George saw his brother Harry standing between them in conversation with Lord Hay. He waved casually, but Harry, as soon as he caught sight of him, left Hay and surged forward.
"Hallo, George! When did you arrive? Where are you quartered? I am devilish glad to see you!"
George answered these questions rather in a manner of a man receiving a welcome of a boisterous puppy; twitted Harry on the glory of his brand-new regimentals; and demanded: "Where's Bab?"
"Oh, with Audley somewhere, I daresay! But what a hand you are, not to have written to tell us you were coming!"
"Who's Audley?" interrupted George, looking over the heads of several people in an attempt to see his sister.
"Why, Worth's brother, to be sure! Lord, don't you know? Bab's going to marry him - or so she says."
This piece of intelligence seemed to amuse George. "Poor devil! No, I didn't know. New, is it?"
"Oh, they've been engaged for a fortnight or more! Look, there they both are!"
A moment later Barbara was startled by an arm being put familiarly round her waist. "Hallo, Bab, my girl!" said his lordship.
She turned quickly in his embrace, an exclamation on her lips. "George! You wretch, to creep up behind me like that!"
He kissed her cheek, and continued to hold her round the waist. "What's all this I hear about your engagement?" He glanced at Colonel Audley, and held out his free hand. "You're Audley, aren't you? How d'ye do? Think we've met before, but can't recall where. What the devil do you mean by getting engaged to my sister? You'll regret it, you know!"
"But you must see that I can't, in honour, draw back now," returned the Colonel, shaking hands. "When did you arrive? At Liedekerke, aren't you? We're deuced glad to see you fellows, I can tell. How strong are you?"
"Two squadrons. What are these Dutchmen like,hey? Saw some of them on our way up from Ostend. They're not so badly mounted, but they can't ride."
"That's the trouble," admitted the Colonel. "A great many of them are shocking bad riders.You know we are not getting Combermere to command the cavalry after all. The Horse Guards are sending Lord Uxbridge out to us."
.'Oh, he's a good fellow! You'll like him. But you've served under him, of course. You were with Moore, weren't you? I say, Audley, you Peninsular fellows have the advantage of us - and by Jove, don't you mean to let us know it! A damned rifleman I met tonight called my lot Hyde Park soldiers!"
"So you knocked him down, and poor Vidal will be faced with another scandal!" remarked Barbara.
"No, I didn't. Fellow was my host. But when it comes to fighting we'll show you what Hyde Park soldiers can do!"
Barbara, who was tired of a purely military conversation, changed the subject by asking him how her grandfather did. He confessed that he had not seen that irascible gentleman quite lately, but thought - from the energetic tone of his correspondence - that he was enjoying his customary vigorous health.
"In debt again?" asked Barbara. "Would he not come to the rescue?"
"Oh lord, no! Wrote that he'd see me to the devil first!" replied George. "But I daresay if I come out of this little war alive he'll pay up."
"Return of a hero?" enquired the Colonel. "You'd better get wounded."
"Devilish good notion," agreed his lordship. "Of course if I'm killed it won't matter to me how many debts I've got. Either way I'm bound to win. What are the Prussians like, Audley?"
"I haven't seen much of them, so far. Old Blucher has arrived at Liege, and says he can put 80,000 men in the field. Some of them pretty raw, of course - like our own."
"Queer old boy, Blucher," remarked George. "Saw him last year, when he was in London with the Emperors and all that crowd. Seemed to take very well - people used to cheer him whenever he showed his face out of doors."
Lady Barbara moved away; Lord George wandered off, and presently discovered Miss Devenish again. He apparently prevailed upon her to present him to her aunt, for when Judith caught sight of him an hour later he was sitting beside Mrs Fisher, making himself agreeable. Judith could see that Mrs Fisher was pleased with him, and hoped that she would not allow herself to be carried away by a title and a handsome face. She had little dependence, however, on that amiable lady's judgment, and was not much surprised to see her beckon to her niece to come and join in her chat with Lord George. Miss Devenish obeyed the summons, but reluctantly. Lord George jumped up as she approached, and in a few minutes succeeded in detaching her from her aunt and bearing her off in the direction of the parlour, where the refreshments were laid out.
It was not until the end of the evening, when her guests were beginning to disperse, that Judith found an opportunity to speak to Lucy. She said then: "I hope Lord George did not tease you? He is rather a bold young man, I am afraid."
Lucy coloured, but replied quietly: "Oh no! I knew him before, in England."
"Yes, so you told me. I was surprised: I don't think you ever mentioned the circumstance to me?"
There was a little hesitation, a faltering for words. "I daresay I might not. The occasion did not arise, our acquaintance was not of such a nature -"
"My dear, why should you? I implied no blame! But I was sorry to see him single you out with such particularity. I could see you were a little discomposed, and did not wonder at it. His manners are a great deal too familiar."
Miss Devenish opened and shut her fan once or twice, and replied: "I was discomposed, I own. The surprise of seeing him here - and his singling me out, as you describe, put me out of countenance."
"The attentions of men of his type are apt to be very disagreeable," said Judith. "Happily, the violent fancies they take do not last long. I believe Lord George to be a shocking flirt. You, however, have too much common sense to take him seriously."
"Oh yes! That is, I know what people say of him. Forgive me, but there are circumstances which make it painful for me to discuss - but it is not in my power to explain."
"Why, Lucy, what is this?" Judith exclaimed. "I had not thought your acquaintance to be more than a chance meeting at a ball!"
"It was a little more than that. I became acquainted with him when I was staying in Brighton with my cousins last year. There was a degree of intimacy which - which I could not avoid."
Her voice failed. Judith suspected that the attentions of a dashing young officer had not been wholly unwelcome. She had no doubt that Lord George had speedily overstepped the bounds of propriety, and understood, with ready sympathy, Lucy's feelings upon being confronted with him again. She said kindly: "I perfectly understand, and beg you won't think yourself bound to confide in me. There is not the least necessity!"
She was obliged to turn away directly after, to shake hands with a departing guest. Lucy rejoined her aunt, who was making signs to her that it was time to go, and no further talk was held on the subject. Lord George, who was engaged with a dazzling brunette, did not observe her departure. Judith, who knew that at least two other ladies had been the objects of his gallantry that evening, was encouraged to hope that his persecution of Lucy had been nothing more than a piece of Alastair devilry, designed merely to make the poor child uncomfortable.
He soon came up to take his leave. He was escorting his sister, whose head just topped his broad shoulder. In spite of the difference in colouring there was a remarkable likeness between them. Spiritually, too, they seemed to be akin; they delighted in the same mischief, used the same careless, engaging manners, shocked the world like children anxious to attract attention to themselves. Judith, confronting them, admitted their charm, and looked indulgently on such a handsome couple.
"I have spent a capital evening, Lady Worth," said George. "When you give your next party I hope you may send me a card. I shall certainly come."
"Of course," she replied. "I am glad you took your ourage in your hands and came tonight. It would have been a sad thing not to have seen your sister after riding it that way for the purpose."
"Did he tell you he had come expressly to see me?" said Barbara. "George, what a liar you are! Depend upon it, Lady Worth, he had quite another quarry in mind. Shall I see you at the Review tomorrow?"
"At Nivelles? Oh no! It is too far - and only a review of Belgian troops. I shall wait to see our own troops reviewed, I believe."
"Then we shall not meet. But you will be at the Duke's party, I daresay, on Friday. "Oh, where is Charles? He must procure an invitation for George!"
She drew her hand from her brother's arm as she spoke, and darted off to find the Colonel. She soon came back with him; he promised that a card should be sent to George, and accompanied them both to the door of the carriage. George shook hands at parting, and said warmly: "You're a good fellow: I wish you happy - though I don't above half like to find Bab engaged to a damned staff officer, I can tell you!"
"We all have our crosses!" retorted the Colonel. "Mine is to be saddled with a Hyde Park soldier for a brother-in-law."
"Oh, the devil! You know, you're so puffed up, you Peninsular men, that there's no bearing with you! Goodnight: I shall see you on Friday, I suppose?"
He got into the carriage beside his sister and settled himself in one corner. "Well, that makes the tenth since Childe died," he remarked.
"No! I was only once engaged before!"
"Twice."
"Oh, you are thinking of Ralph Dashwood! That was never announced, and can't signify. I am serious now."
He gave a hoot of laughter. "Until the next man drifts by! Has he any money?"
"I suppose him to have a younger son's portion. He is not rich."
"Well, what the devil made you choose him?" demanded George. "I see no sense in it!"
"I don't care for money," she replied pettishly.
"More fool you, then. I never knew you when you weren't dipped. Besides, this fellow Audley: I like him, he's a good man - but he ain't your sort, Bab."
"True, but I loved him from the first. I don't know how it came about. Isn't it odd that one should keep one's heart intact so many years, only to have it crack for a man no more handsome or wealthy than a hundred others? I can find no reason for it, unless it be the trick his eyes have of smiling while his mouth is grave - and that's nonsensical."
He said rather gloomily: "I know what you mean. Take it from me, it's the devil."
"It is the devil. I wish to be good, to behave as I should - and yet I don't! If I had never been married to Childe it would be so different! Damnable to have done that to me! I believe it ruined me."
He yawned. "Where's the use in worrying? You were willing, weren't you?"
"At eighteen, and the hoyden that I was! What could I know of the matter? Papa made the match; I married to oblige my family, and wretched work I made of it!'Jasper - oh, don't let us talk of him: how I grew to loathe him! I was never more glad of anything than his death, and I swore then that no one - no one should ever possess me again! Even though I love Charles, even when I desire most earnestly to please him, there is something in me that revolts - yes, revolts, George! drives me to commit such acts of folly! I use him damnably, I suppose, and shall end by making us both wretched."