Читать книгу Too Clever by Half - Lang John - Страница 9

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"WHO is that young man dancing with Anne Newsham?" asked Mrs. Missevery.

"That's George Harroway," replied Sam; "but you don't mean to say you call him young?"

"Why, he can't be more than three or four and twenty."

"He'll never see five and thirty again. Certainly not. Let me see. He is just one year and a half my junior."

"You wear uncommonly well. I should not have taken either of you to be thirty."

"The dress has a great deal to do with it. It makes a man look very much younger than he really is."

"What age, now, would you take me to be?" asked Mrs. Missevery (with a smile), drawing herself up, and sitting as erect as possible.

"Why, I am very seldom out," said Sam. "Let me see. Why, I should say I had the advantage of you by four or five years."

Mrs. Missevery shook her head.

"Not so much as that?" suggested Sam.

"We are within one year," said the lady.

The fact was Mrs. Missevery was forty-seven; but according to her own account she was only seven and thirty.

"I hope you don't think thirty-seven old," said Sam.

"No; but it is not young," she replied.

"We've still enough of light and life for some gay soarings yet," quoted the insinuating Sam.

"I hope so."

"Let's have a trial in this waltz," said Sam; and before the lady had time to deny him, she was on her legs, and whisked round the room with the rest of the dancers. Mrs. Missevery had never waltzed in her life before: of the step she had not the most remote idea; but she did her best, and held on by Sam's epaulette, as though it was for her very life.

Anne Newsham gave vent to her feelings in a scream which rang through the Assembly Rooms. "The idea—the vanity of that old cat!" she said to her partner. "The idea! she must be mad! Who could ever have thought the old goose would be guilty of such a misdemeanour? Look! she has her eyes shut. She must be getting giddy. I should like to see them come down. This is too much. I must sit down to enjoy the fun."

Mrs. Missevery was giddy; for when Sam brought her up, she still held on by the epaulette, and fancied everybody was walking on the ceiling. When she "came to," she observed Anne Newsham laughing at her, and another poor girl in hysterics, and the subject of a scene herself. Mrs. Missevery darted a look of indignation at Anne, and then remarked to Sam, "Really, the bold effrontery of that girl, Anne Newsham, is beyond everything!"

Sam agreed, and took her to the refreshment table, where he told her she waltzed with a lighter step than any one in the room.

Freeport was of the same opinion as Butler as to the way that widows should be wooed, and he therefore determined to carry Mrs. Missevery and her "iron works to the westward," by assault.

"I should like to have you as a partner for life," said Sam.

Mrs. Missevery smiled.

"But I fear," he added, "that some other is more fortunate."

"I am at my own disposal," said Mrs. Missevery, proudly.

"Would that you were at mine!" ejaculated Sam.

Mrs. Missevery distended her aged eyelids, and her "adorer" handed her to a retired part of the room; and before he led her forth to the next dance, she was "engaged" to him.

She informed him that she had a good fortune; which made him declare that he despised wealth, and never thought of it when happiness was the object in view.

When the ball was over, Sam saw Mrs. Missevery to her carriage. Just before he closed the door, he contrived to impart a kiss on the glove of her left hand.

"Well, Sam, how did you enjoy yourself?" inquired Harroway, when they got home, at about three o'clock in the morning.

"Never enjoyed myself more in my life," was the reply.

"What was the meaning of making that old woman waltz? You were nearly the death of poor Anne."

"Why, I wanted to turn her head, preparatory to making an inroad upon her heart. She is worth a mint of money, and no end of iron works to the westward."

"Well, have you succeeded?"

"Of course. I never was refused in my life. The thing is settled, sir. She's mine."

"How she clutched you in the waltz!"

"Didn't she! And, by Jove, George, only look at the condition she has left the bullion in; and no end of 'em are gone! Never mind, she'll make it all good by and bye! There's nothing like iron, after all. I say, did you notice her diamonds? Wouldn't they make fine shirt studs!"

Harroway was too deeply engaged in thinking of Anne to take much heed of Freeport's discourse. The girl had made him love her, and he longed for the next meeting of the hounds.

Freeport called on his betrothed, and made himself remarkably agreeable. She invited him to "The Cliffs" (her "beautiful estate"), whither she purposed proceeding on the morrow.

Sam expressed the great delight he should experience in seeing her in her own home, and accepted the invitation.

That "horrid Anne Newsham" was the principal theme on which Mrs. Missevery touched, and (laughing all the while in his heart) Freeport gave her great encouragement to pursue the subject.

The hounds met the very day that Sam paid his visit to "The Cliffs." After a run of two or three miles, George Harroway and Anne paired off towards a point which the fox was not likely to make, and left the field entirely.

The girl pulled up, and, looking tenderly in his face, said, "Now then, what are you going to say? Don't tell me anything you don't mean. But, before you begin, I ought to tell you what passed between Captain Freeport and myself a day or two before the ball. It is right you should know it at first, because it might influence you hereafter."

She then informed him of all that passed—Sam's proposal, and her subsequent refusal.

The disclosure made Harroway laugh; at the same time it strengthened his regard for the honest-hearted girl, with whom he felt he could be happy. He then told her of what he was possessed. She said she was glad he was wealthy, for she had a horror of poverty.

Harroway intimated that he would ask her father's consent, which would be granted as a matter of course.

"You may ask him," said the girl. "But if he refused, it would be of no consequence. They have taught us to do as we like, and we are too old now to forget the lesson. There's a prospect for you! What do you say to that?"

"I'm content to take my chance," replied Harroway.

"Why, what's the meaning of this?" cried the girl. "The fox went round the bottom of yonder hill, and here they come, pressing him hard. Bravo! we are in at the death after all! How vexed my sisters will be! They are not here! Don't tell them this was all luck, but judgment; and mark how vigorously they will argue the point."