In the Year of Jubilee | Page 6

had 'been through' Inorganic Chemistry and Botany. The truth was, of course, that their minds, characters, propensities had remained absolutely proof against such educational influence as had been brought to bear upon them. That they used a finer accent than their servants, signified only that they had grown up amid falsities, and were enabled, by the help of money, to dwell above-stairs, instead of with their spiritual kindred below.
Anticipating Fanny's reply, Beatrice observed, with her air of sagacity:
'If you think you're going to get anything out of an old screw like Lord, you'll jolly soon find your mistake.'
'Don't you go and make a fool of yourself, Fanny,' said Mrs. Peachey. 'Why, he can't be more than twenty-one, is he?'
'He's turned twenty-two.'
The others laughed scornfully.
'Can't I have who I like for a masher?' cried Fanny, reddening a little. 'Who said I was going to marry him? I'm in no particular hurry to get married. You think everybody's like yourselves.'
'If there was any chance of old Lord turning up his toes,' said Beatrice thoughtfully. 'I dare say he'll leave a tidy handful behind him, but then he may live another ten years or more.'
'And there's Nancy,' exclaimed Ada. 'Won't she get half the plunder?'
'May be plenty, even then,' said Beatrice, her head aside. 'The piano business isn't a bad line. I shouldn't wonder if he leaves ten or fifteen thousand.'
'Haven't you got anything out of Horace?' asked Ada of Fanny. 'What has he told you?'
'He doesn't know much, that's the fact.'
'Silly! There you are. His father treats him like a boy; if he talked about marrying, he'd get a cuff on the ear. Oh, I know all about old Lord,' Ada proceeded. 'He's a regular old tyrant. Why, you've only to look at him. And he thinks no small beer of himself, either, for all he lives in that grubby little house; I shouldn't wonder if he thinks us beneath him.'
She stared at her sisters, inviting their comment on this_ ludicrous state of things.
'I quite believe Nancy does,' said Fanny, with a point of malice.
'She's a stuck-up thing,' declared Mrs. Peachey. 'And she gets worse as she gets older. I shall never invite her again; it's three times she has made an excuse--all lies, of course.
'Who will she marry?' asked Beatrice, in a tone of disinterested speculation.
Mrs. Peachey answered with a sneer:
'She's going to the Jubilee to pick up a fancy Prince.'
'As it happens,' objected Fanny, 'she isn't going to the Jubilee at all. At least she says she isn't. She's above it--so her brother told me.'
'I know who wants to marry her,' Ada remarked, with a sour smile.
'Who is that?' came from the others.
'Mr. Crewe.'
With a significant giggle, Fanny glanced at the more sober of her sisters; she, the while, touched her upper lip with the point of her tongue, and looked towards the window.
'Does he?' Fanny asked of the ceiling.
'He wants money to float his teetotal drink,' said Beatrice. 'Hasn't he been at Arthur about it?'
'Not that I know,' answered the wife.
'He tried to get round me, but I--'
A scream of incredulity from Fanny, and a chuckle from Mrs. Peachey, covered the rest of the sentence. Beatrice gazed at them defiantly.
'Well, idiots! What's up now?'
'Oh, nothing.'
'There's nobody knows Luckworth Crewe better than I do,' Beatrice pursued disdainfully, 'and I think he knows me pretty well. He'll make a fool of himself when he marries; I've told him so, and he as good as said I was right. If it wasn't for that, I should feel a respect for him. He'll have money one of these days.'
'And he'll marry Nancy Lord,' said Ada tauntingly.
'Not just yet.'
Ada rolled herself from the sofa, and stood yawning.
'Well, I shall go and dress. What are you people going to do? You needn't expect any dinner. I shall have mine at a restaurant.'
'Who have you to meet?' asked Fanny, with a grimace.
Her sister disregarded the question, yawned again, and turned to Beatrice.
'Who shall we ask to take Fan's place on Tuesday? Whoever it 15, they'll have to pay. Those seats are selling for three guineas, somebody told me.'
Conversation lingered about this point for a few minutes, till Mrs. Peachey went upstairs. When the door was open, a child's crying could be heard, but it excited no remark. Presently the other two retired, to make themselves ready for going out. Fanny was the first to reappear, and, whilst waiting for her sister, she tapped out a new music-hall melody on the piano.
As they left the house, Beatrice remarked that Ada really meant to have her dinner at Gatti's or some such place; perhaps they had better indulge themselves in the same way.
'Suppose you give Horace Lord a hint that we've no dinner at home? He might take us, and stand treat.'
Fanny shook her head.
'I don't think he