CHAPTER XXXIV
Not even the news of Flodden brought direr dismay to Hechnahoul than Mr.Maddison's brief note. Lord Tulliwuddle an impostor? That magnificentyoung man a fraud? So much geniality, brawn, and taste for the bagpipesmerely the sheep's clothing that hid a wandering wolf? Incredible! Yet,on second thoughts, how very much more thrilling than if he had reallybeen an ordinary peer! And what a judgment on the presumption of Mr. andMrs. Gallosh! Hard luck on Eva, of course--but, then, girls who aspireto marry out of their own station must expect this kind of thing.
The latter part of this commentary was naturally not that of thepretender's host and hostess. In the throes of their anger and chagrintheir one consoling reflection was that no friends less tried than Mr.and Mrs. Rentoul happened to be there to witness their confusion. Yetother sufferers since Job have found that the oldest friends do notnecessarily of er the most acceptable consolation.
"Oh, oh! I feel like to die of grief!" wailed poor Mrs. Gallosh.
"Aye; it's an awful smack in the eye for you," said Mr. Rentoul sagely.
"Smack in the eye!" thundered his host. "It's a criminal offence--that'swhat it is! It's a damned swindle! It's a----"
"Oh, hush, hush!" interrupted Mrs. Rentoul in a shocked voice. "Whatwords for a lady to hear! After all, you must remember you never madeany inquiries."
"Inquiries! What for should I be making inquiries about my guests? YOUnever dropped a word of such a thing! Who'd have listened if I had? Itwas just Lord Tulliwuddle this and Lord Tulliwuddle that from morning tonight since ever he came to the Castle."
"Duncan's so simple-minded," groaned Mrs. Gallosh.
"And what were you, I'd like to know? What were you?" retorted herjustly incensed spouse. "Never a word did I hear, but just that he wassuch an aristocratic young man, and any one could see he had blue bloodin his veins, and stuff of that kind!"
"I more than once had my own doubts about that," said the alcohol expertwith a knowing wink. "There was something about him---- Ah, well, he wasnot exactly my own idea of a lord."
"YOUR idea?" scoffed his oldest and best of friends. "What do YOU knowof lords, I'd like to know?"
"Well, well," answered the sage peaceably, "maybe we've neither of ushad much opportunity of judging of the nobility. It's just more bad luckthan anything else that you should have gone to the expense of settingup in style in a lord's castle and then having this downcome. If I'd hadsimilar ambeetions it might have been me."
This soft answer was so far from turning away wrath, that Mrs. Rentoulagain felt compelled to stem the tide of her host's eloquence.
"Oh, hush!" she exclaimed; "I'd have fancied you'd be having no thoughtsbeyond your daughter's affliction."
"My Eva! my poor Eva! Where is the suffering child?" cried Mrs. Gallosh."Duncan, what'll she be doing?"
"Making a to-do like the rest of the women-folk," replied her husband,with rather less sympathy than the occasion seemed to demand.
In point of fact Eva had disappeared from the company immediately afterhearing the contents of Mr. Maddison's letter, and whatever she had beendoing, it had not been weeping alone, for at that moment she ran intothe room, her face agitated, but rather, it seemed, with excitement thangrief.
"Papa, lend me five pounds," she panted.
"Lend you--five pounds! And what for, I'd like to know?"
"Don't ask me now. I--I promise to tell you later--some time later."
"I'll see myself----! I mean, you're talking nonsense."
Eva's lip trembled.
"Hi, hist! Eva, my dear," said Mr. Rentoul; "if you're wanting the moneybadly, and your papa doesn't see his way----"
He concluded his sentence with a wink and a dive into histrousers-pocket, and a minute later Eva had fled from the room again.
This action of the sage, being at total variance to his ordinary habits(which indeed erred on the economical side), was attributed by his iratehost--with a certain show of reason--to the mere intention of annoyinghim; and the conversation took a more acrimonious turn than ever. Infact, when Eva returned a few minutes later she was just in time to hearher father thunder in an infuriated voice--
"A German waiter, is he? Aye, that's verra probable, verra probableindeed. In fact I might have known it when I saw you and him swillinga bottle and a half of my best port together! Birds of a feather--aye,aye, exactly!"
The crushing retort which the sage evidently had ready to heap upon thefire of this controversy was anticipated by Miss Gallosh.
"He isn't a German waiter, papa! He is a German BARON--and anambassador, too!"
The four started and stared at her.
"Where did you learn that?" demanded her father.
"I've been talking to the man who brought the letter, and he says thatLord Tulli--I mean the Baron--declares positively that he is a Germannobleman!"
"Tuts, fiddlesticks!" scoffed her father.
"Verra like a whale," pronounced the sage.
"I wouldn't believe what HE said," declared Mrs. Gallosh.
"One can SEE he isn't," said Mrs. Rentoul.
"The kind of Baron that plays in a German band, perhaps," added herhusband, with a whole series of winks to give point to this mot.
"He's just a scoundrelly adventurer!" shouted Mr. Gallosh.
"I hope he'll get penal servitude, that's what I hope," said his wifewith a sob.
"And, judging from his appearance, that'll be no new experience forhim," commented the sage.
So remarkably had their judgment of the late Lord Tulliwuddle waxed indiscrimination. And, strange to say, his only defender was the lady hehad injured most.
"I still believe him a gentleman!" she cried, and swept tearfully fromthe room.
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