her the courage to love.
Mr. Bassett called pretty often; but one day he met Sir Charles on the
stairs, and scowled.
That scowl cost him dear, for Sir Charles thereupon represented to
Bella that a man with a grievance is a bore to the very eye, and asked
her to receive no more visits from his scowling cousin. The lady smiled,
and said, with soft complacency, "I obey."
Sir Charles's gallantry was shocked.
"No, don't say 'obey.' It is a little favor I ventured to ask."
"It is like you to ask what you have a right to command. I shall be out
to him in future, and to every one who is disagreeable to you. What!
does 'obey' frighten you from my lips? To me it is the sweetest in the
language. Oh, please let me 'obey' you! May I?"
Upon this, as vanity is seldom out of call, Sir Charles swelled like a
turkey-cock, and loftily consented to indulge Bella Bruce's strange
propensity. From that hour she was never at home to Mr. Bassett.
He began to suspect; and one day, after he had been kept out with the
loud, stolid "Not at home" of practiced mendacity, he watched, and saw
Sir Charles admitted.
He divined it all in a moment, and turned to wormwood. What! was he
to be robbed of the lady he loved--and her fifteen thousand pounds--by
the very man who had robbed him of his ancestral fields? He dwelt on
the double grievance till it nearly frenzied him. But he could do nothing:
it was his fate. His only hope was that Sir Charles, the arrant flirt,
would desert this beauty after a time, as he had the others.
But one afternoon, in the smoking-room of his club, a gentleman said
to him, "So your cousin Charles is engaged to the Yorkshire beauty,
Bell Bruce?"
"He is flirting with her, I believe," said Richard.
"No, no," said the other; "they are engaged. I know it for a fact. They
are to be married next month."
Mr. Richard Bassett digested this fresh pill in moody silence, while the
gentlemen of the club discussed the engagement with easy levity. They
soon passed to a topic of wider interest, viz., who was to succeed Sir
Charles with La Somerset. Bassett began to listen attentively, and
learned for the first time Sir Charles Bassett's connection with that lady,
and also that she was a woman of a daring nature and furious temper.
At first he was merely surprised; but soon hatred and jealousy
whispered in his ear that with these materials it must be possible to
wound those who had wounded him.
Mr. Marsh, a young gentleman with a receding chin, and a mustache
between hay and straw, had taken great care to let them all know he
was acquainted with Miss Somerset. So Richard got Marsh alone, and
sounded him. Could he call upon the lady without ceremony?
"You won't get in. Her street door is jolly well guarded, I can tell you."
"I am very curious to see her in her own house."
"So are a good many fellows."
"Could you not give me an introduction?"
Marsh shook his head sapiently for a considerable time, and with all
this shaking, as it appeared, out fell words of wisdom. "Don't see it. I'm
awfully spooney on her myself; and, you know, when a fellow
introduces another fellow, that fellow always cuts the other out." Then,
descending from the words of the wise and their dark sayings to a petty
but pertinent fact, he added, _"Besides,_ I'm only let in myself about
once in five times."
"She gives herself wonderful airs, it seems," said Bassett, rather
bitterly.
Marsh fired up. "So would any woman that was as beautiful, and as
witty and as much run after as she is. Why she is a leader of fashion.
Look at all the ladies following her round the park. They used to drive
on the north side of the Serpentine. She just held up her finger, and now
they have cut the Serpentine, and followed her to the south drive."
"Oh, indeed!" said Bassett. "Ah then this is a great lady; a poor country
squire must not venture into her august presence." He turned savagely
on his heel, and Marsh went and made sickly mirth at his expense.
By this means the matter soon came to the ears of old Mr. Woodgate,
the father of that club, and a genial gossip. He got hold of Bassett in the
dinner-room and examined him. "So you want an introduction to La
Somerset, and Marsh refuses--Marsh, hitherto celebrated for his weak
head rather than his hard heart?"
Richard Bassett nodded rather sullenly. He had not bargained for this
rapid publicity.
The venerable chief resumed: "We
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