A Double Knot Part 44

"What do you mean, d.i.c.k?" cried her ladys.h.i.+p sharply.

"That's what has brought me up to town. Lady Littletown has been stealing a march on you, and is trying to egg him on to propose elsewhere."

"The wretched scheming creature! Oh! No, no, it is impossible. You are mistaken, my boy."

"Oh no, I'm not. The old chap is quite on there at Hampton Court. But of course he has no chance."

"Stop! At Hampton Court? Who is the lady?"

"One of the Miss Dymc.o.xes' nieces, living with her aunts in the Palace."

"Philippa Dymc.o.x's niece?"

"Yes."

"Not a Miss Riversley?"

"That's the name, mamma."

"How horrible!--Riversleys! Why, they are connected with the Huishes.

That Mr John Huish's father married a Miss Riversley."

"Very likely," said d.i.c.k Millet coolly. "That's the lady, all the same--Miss Dymc.o.x's niece."

"The Dymc.o.xes! the paupers! Lady Littletown's doing! Oh, that woman!"

"You don't like her, then, mamma?"

"Like her? Ugh!" exclaimed Lady Millet in tones of disgust; "I can soon put a stop to that, my son." Her ladys.h.i.+p compressed her lips. "But it is all Gertrude's fault, behaving so ridiculously about that John Huish.

I don't know what she may not have said to Lord Henry the other night.

He was almost at her feet, and now he shall be quite. John Huish indeed!--a man going hopelessly to the bad," Her ladys.h.i.+p rang. "There is no time to be lost. I must act at once. Lord Henry Moorpark must be brought back to his allegiance. Send Miss Gertrude's maid to ask her to step down here," continued her ladys.h.i.+p to the servant who answered the bell.

"What are you going to do?"

"Arrange for invitations to be sent out at once. Oh, d.i.c.k, my boy, the stories I have heard lately about Mr Huish's gambling and dissipation are terrible! Gertrude has had a marvellous escape. It is very shocking, for your uncle and father have known the Huishes all their lives. Well?"

"Richards says, my lady, that Miss Millet went out an hour ago."

"Out? Gone out?"

"Yes, my lady; and Richards found this note left on the dressing-table, my lady, stuck down on the cus.h.i.+on with a pin."

"Great heavens!" cried Lady Millet, s.n.a.t.c.hing the note from a salver; "there, leave the room."

The man bowed and moved to the door, in time to open it for Sir Humphrey, who stood beaming at his son, while her ladys.h.i.+p tore open the letter and read:

"Dear Mamma,--_I cannot marry Lord Henry Moorpark. Good-bye_."

"That's all!" cried her ladys.h.i.+p in a perfect wail. "What does it mean?"

"Looks suspicious," said d.i.c.k. "Hullo!" he continued, as the servant reopened the door. "Can't see visitors."

"Mr Frank Morrison, sir," said the man, who looked rather scared at seeing her ladys.h.i.+p sink upon a couch, where Sir Humphrey began to fan her.

"What the deuce does he want?" grumbled d.i.c.k. "Hullo, Frank! I was coming to see you about that row with our Renee. Gertrude wrote and told me."

"My wife here?" said Morrison, who was a good deal excited by wine.

"What, Renee? No!"

"d.a.m.n!" cried the young husband, dropping upon a chair, and looking from one to the other.

"Something fresh, then?" cried d.i.c.k, growing excited. "Here, why the devil don't you speak, man?"

"Yes, yes! why don't you speak?" cried Lady Millet piteously. "Oh, Frank dear, what news? Have you seen Gertrude?"

"No," he said thickly. "I want Renee."

"Where is she? Speak, I conjure you!" cried her ladys.h.i.+p.

"Don't know," said Morrison, glancing round. "Haven't been home for days. Went home this afternoon. Had some words and came away again."

"Well, well, go on! I saw you playing billiards at the club."

"Yes," said Morrison, whose brain was clouded with days of excess.

"Went home again just now. Going to make it up, and she'd gone. Where is she? Want her directly."

d.i.c.k stood thinking for a few moments, while her ladys.h.i.+p looked at him as if imploring him to speak.

"She's in it, p'raps," he said. "Look here, Frank, can you understand me, or have you got D.T. too bad?"

"Yes, I understand," said the young man thickly.

"Gertrude's gone away. We think your wife must be in the plot."

"No," said Morrison slowly, as he gave his head a shake to clear it, and stood up angry and fierce, while the others hung upon his words as being likely to dispel their fears. "No, poor girl! too much trouble. I'm a villain," he groaned, "and I struck her to-night; but--but," he cried excitedly, "she deceived me. Gone with Malpas. She's false as h.e.l.l!"

"It's a lie!" cried d.i.c.k fiercely. "Here, father, see to my mother.

It's a lie, I say; and you, Frank Morrison, you're a cad to dare to-- Ah!" said the lad, uttering a shrill cry, and he had just time to drive up a pistol as it exploded, and save his brother-in-law's brains from being scattered on the wall.

Then there was a fierce struggle, as Frank Morrison strove to direct the revolver at his temples once more, and d.i.c.k fought with him bravely till overpowered; but two of the frightened servants ran in, and with their help the madman was secured and held down till the arrival of the nearest doctor, a messenger having been also sent for Dr Stonor, who arrived a couple of hours later; and between them the excitement of the would-be suicide was somewhat allayed, though he was still half mad.

It was the old story--days and days of heavy use of stimulants, till the fevered madness that generally comes in its wake had seized upon an already too excited brain; and it was only by the use of the strongest measures that the medical men were able to restrain their patient's violence, as he rambled on wildly hour after hour, the burden of his incoherent mutterings being, "My wife! my wife!"

Volume 2, Chapter VIII.

d.i.c.k MILLET FEELS GROWN UP.