Fallen Fortunes

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  *CHAPTER VII.*

  *A FAIR FACE.*

  If Grey Dumaresq was a man who craved a variety of experiences, andwished to see life under different aspects, he was getting his wish now;for the gay world of fashion, into which he suddenly found himselfplunged, differed _in toto_ from any of his former experiences; and soswift was the pace, and so shifting the throng amid which he moved, thathe often felt as though his breath were fairly taken away, and as thoughhe had suddenly stepped into a new existence.

  Lord Sandford had chanced upon the young baronet at a moment when ablank had been made in his own life by the sudden and violent death ofone who had been his boon companion and friend. The gay young man, whohad fallen in a foolish duel a few weeks before, had been the inmate ofhis house and the companion in all his freaks and follies; so much so,that without him the young nobleman felt for the moment bewildered andlost, and had absented himself from town with a view to "getting overit," as he hoped: for he despised himself for any sign of weakness, andwould not for worlds have had his comrades and boon companions know howthe loss had affected him.

  Then, as it seemed just by a lucky chance, this young and attractive manhad fallen as from the very skies at his feet. Grey Dumaresq, new tothe world of London, curious and speculative, willing to see all, learnall, participate in all, seemed exactly the person to fill the gap inhis life. Grey had no place of abode; why, then, should he not occupythe vacant chambers in the wing of the great mansion in the Strand whichLord Sandford used as his customary lodging, when he was not spendinghis time with friends, or making one of a gay party elsewhere? Grey hadno valid reason for declining the invitation pressed upon him. LordSandford was a masterful man, and his strong personality impresseditself upon Grey with something between attraction and repulsion. But,on the whole, attraction seemed the stronger power, and curiosity toknow more of this man and his life held Grey's soul in thrall. He hadalways experienced a vivid curiosity to taste life in its various forms,to know and understand the thoughts, the feelings, the aspirations, theambitions of other men. His travels had given him insight into manymatters; but he felt that these new experiences were likely to be moresearching, more exciting, more full of keen personal interest. He hadbeen, as it were, a spectator heretofore; now he was to be aparticipator.

  He had not meant to be any man's guest; he had meant to take a modestlodging of his own, and look about him for something in the way ofemployment, but Lord Sandford had roared with laughter over such anotion.

  "What! Sir Grey Dumaresq going cap in hand to some proud place-giver toask for patronage, or I know not what! Gadzooks, man, with that face,that figure, that horse, and a purse full of guineas, you can do betterthan that! Trust yourself to me. I'll show you where fame and fortunelie. You shall redeem your rat-infested old house in a very briefwhile, if you will but trust yourself to my guidance. You be Damon tomy Pythias--or is it t'other way round, eh?--and I'll show you the royalroad to the goal you want."

  For lack of any definite plans, Grey had consented for the nonce toaccept Lord Sandford's advice, and had quickly found himself installedin some gloomy and stately yet luxurious chambers in a vast house, ofwhich only a portion was open for use, and the rest given over to aneglect and decay that Hartsbourne itself could scarcely rival.

  "But we shall change all that some day," spoke Lord Sandford, with acareless laugh, as Grey expressed his surprise at the vast rooms andlong galleries shut up and infested by rats and spiders. "Oh yes, weshall change all that some day; but what does a bachelor want with sucha house as this? What should I be the better for a crowd of liveriedservants, eating off their heads, idling away their time dicing anddrinking? What have I to give an army of scullions and cooks to do--Iwho seldom take a meal at home after my morning chocolate? No, no; Iknow a trick worth two of that. I don't ruin myself to keep a crew offat, lazy rogues about me, cheating me at every turn. Half a dozenfellows and a few kitchen wenches do well enow for me; but when LadySandford comes to her husband's home--ah well! then we shall see thedifference."

  But though he talked jestingly from time to time of the Lady Sandfordthat was to be, he gave Grey no hint as to whether his fancy inclinedmore to one or another of the many gay maidens with whom he chatted andflirted, danced and romped, in the fashion of the day; and sobewildering and dazzling were these young madams and their surroundingsthat the newcomer was lost in a maze of wonder and bewilderment, andfound it hard to distinguish one face from another, until he met one,different from all the rest.

  But Grey was not left idle; he had small time for musing. The veryfirst day of his sojourn in London he was surrounded by a flutteringcrowd of tailors, glove-sellers, barbers, fencers, sellers and purveyorsof every imaginable ware, who all professed their eagerness to servehim, and quoted Lord Sandford as a patron who could swear to theirhonesty and the excellence of their goods.

  Into the midst of this motley throng Lord Sandford thrust himself,laughing his great hearty laugh, and quickly sent to the right-abouttwo-thirds of the importunate crowd--a jest here, a keen thrust there, aslap on back or shoulder in another quarter, emphasizing his forciblehints. And when the room was cleared of all but the lucky few, he flunghimself into an armchair with another laugh, telling Grey he was sorryhis knaves of servants, who looked for perquisites everywhere, had letin this flood of rogues upon him, but added that he must needs have thewherewithal to cut a proper figure in London town, and forthwith setabout the business of ordering an outfit for the young man which almosttook his guest's breath away.

  "Poof!" he cried, when the latter strove to remonstrate, "you haveplenty of money; and these rascals can wait if it suits your pleasure.Father's memory! Oh, be hanged to all such mawkish sentiment! You neednot think less of your father because you wear a blue coat in lieu of ablack! Rabbit me! but you are of a different world from this if you keepalive your father's memory for six months after his decease! No, no;you must cut a figure. Sir Hugh's name is clean forgot by now. I'll eatmy boots if 'tis not so. I'll have you as gay as my fancy paints you.No black--no sables for the gentleman, I tell you. Let us see thoseother patterns. Ah! here is something more like."

  Grey submitted. In sooth, he cared but little for the colour of hisclothes, or the set of his hat, or the cut of his coat. He let LordSandford have his way for the most part, only insisting here and thereupon soft and tender tints, and showing a predilection for white, whichhis friend quite approved.

  "You shall be a foil to me, not a rival. I have learned that art fromthe ladies. I like to blaze like old Sol in his strength; you shallrather recall gentle Luna amid her galaxy of stars. Faugh! One's tonguegets into this silly trick of speech, so that one cannot drop it evenbetwixt man and man! But you are right to think that white becomes youwell. You will look a pretty fellow, in all conscience, when you haveadded a peruke to your other adornments."

  But here Grey stood firm. Nothing would induce him to cumber his headwith one of those mountains of hair. In vain the perruquiers displayedtheir wares; in vain Lord Sandford bantered and laughed, and made outthat he would be reckoned as a mad fellow by the young bloods of thecity. Grey would not yield an inch. He had always found his own hairsufficient and comfortable, and he would wear it to the end. And as thediscomfited perruquier at last departed, Lord Sandford broke intoanother of his great laughs.

  "I' faith you are right, man. I like you the better that you have thecourage of your opinions, and care no whit for fashion. You'll be amatch for more than the perruquiers yet. There's a fighting strain inyour blood. I can see it in the glint of your eye. Well, you shall notlack opportunity to fight as well as to laugh here in London town; butwe'll not have cold steel or hot lead again. I've seen enough of thatcursed duelling to last me for a lifetime."

  Grey was quickly to discover the nature of the battles in which he wasto take a part, and at the first he shrank from them with an instinctiveaversion he could not well have
defined, being no grave moralist orphilosopher. Contests of skill or of luck at the gaming tables were allthe rage of the day with the young dandies of the town, and the man whocould keep a steady head, and in some cases a steady hand, was certainin the long run to obtain advantage over his fellows. At one club agame something like our modern billiards was all the rage; and, ofcourse, a man who was moderate in his cups could score heavily over thereckless, dissipated bloods, who were seldom sober after sundown. Diceand cards had their vogue at other places; and though some of the gamesplayed were those purely of chance, others required no small skill and aclear head to ensure success, and it was here that Lord Sandford'sstrong head and Grey's cool blood and temperate habits gave them theadvantage.

  The young man had not been a fortnight in town before finding hiscapital doubled, as well as all bills paid to the astonished tradesmen,who seldom looked to receive their money within a twelvemonth. He wasdisposed to be troubled at this easy fashion of making money; but LordSandford laughed him to scorn.

  "Zounds, man, what does it matter? Those young popinjays are bound tolose their money to some one. Why not then to honest fellows like youand me, who pay our bills and do good to the community with the money?Scruples! Faugh! you must rid yourself of them! Sir Hugh Dumaresq'sson need not trouble himself thus. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrowwe die. Isn't that good Scripture?" But the reckless young lord paleda little at the sound of his own words. He had seen sudden death oncetoo often for his peace of mind of late.

  In sooth, Grey felt but little scruple in taking his winnings. Theyoung man was not greatly in advance of his age, although he was induedwith a nature more finely strung and aspirations more lofty thanbelonged to most. Gambling was so much a matter of course both in thisand in other lands, and the devotees of the amusement so numerous and sobent upon their sport, that it would have needed stronger convictionsthan Grey as yet possessed to make any stand on such a point. He tookthe same risks as the others, and if his coolness of head, steadiness ofhand, and quick observation and memory served to make for success in hiscase, he rather regarded this as a witness to his superiority, and feltonly a small sense of reluctance in pocketing his gains; whichreluctance he could only attribute to a lingering memory of words spokenby his mother when he was a growing boy, and news came to them from timeto time of Sir Hugh's losses over cards, and the necessity for furtherretrenchments upon the already impoverished estate.

  But the cases being so dissimilar, Grey did not see that he need debarhimself from this easy highroad to fortunes, as it then seemed. Nobodywas dependent upon him. Nobody was there to grieve over his troubles orto rejoice over his success. His honest serving-man was in sooth theonly being in any way deeply attached to him; and Dick was as delightedat his master's brave appearance, and at the golden stream running intohis pocket, as though he had achieved some great success or triumph.

  There was one way by which Grey had pocketed considerable sums of moneythat was very congenial to him, and had given him some very happy hours.This was the speed and strength of his horse, which Lord Sandford hadmade boast of, vowing in the hearing of some of the smartest dandies ofthe town that Don Carlos would beat any steed against whom he waspitted--a challenge eagerly taken up by the young bloods, proud of theirown horses and horsemanship, to whom trials of skill and strength, andcontests over which wagers might freely be exchanged, were as the verysalt of life.

  So either out at Hampstead, or at Richmond or Hampton Court, Don Carloshad been set to show the metal of which he was made, and had come offeasy victor in every race and every match, whether flat running, orleaping, or a course of the nature of a steeplechase had been elected.His strength and speed, sagacity and endurance, had never once failedhim, and already he was the talk of the town, and Grey could have soldhim for a great price had he been willing to part with his favourite.

  Many bright eyes had smiled upon the young centaur, many languishingglances had been cast at him. He had been called up again and again tobe presented to some high-born dame, or some bevy of laughing maidens,and he had bowed with courtly grace, and received their sugaredcompliments with suitable acknowledgments. But no face had attractedhim as that face he had seen once at the water theatre, almost upon hisfirst appearance in the gay world. He knew that it belonged to LadyGeraldine Romaine; and often his eyes roved round some gay assemblage,searching half unconsciously for a sight of her tall and gracefulfigure, and the sweet, earnest face, so different from the laughing andgrimacing crowd in which he now moved. Grey had not known much ofwomen, so far. His college life first, and then his roving career ofadventure, had hindered him from making friendships save with those ofhis own sex; and his deep love for his mother had preserved as a livingpower his chivalrous belief in women, and a resolute determination todisbelieve the idle, malicious, and vicious tales he heard of them onall sides. Womanhood was sacred to him, and should be sacred to theworld. That was his inalienable conviction; and he had striven to beblind and deaf to much of what had often been passing around him, thathe might not sink to the level of the men he met, who would tear totatters a woman's reputation for an evening's pastime, or revel in everyugly bit of scandal or tittle-tattle that the young beaux' valetslearned from the lackeys of other fine folk, and retailed with additionsat the door of the theatre, the gates of the Park, or on the staircasesof the fashionable houses whither their masters and mistresses flockedfor amusement, unconscious or heedless of the gossip spread abroad aboutthem by their servants at the doors.

  Grey took no pleasure in the society of these fashionable dames. Histongue had not learned the trick of the artificial language then invogue. He was disgusted by the gross flattery every lady looked toreceive, and the lisping platitudes of the attendant beaux filled himwith scorn. It was small wonder that he chose rather the society of menof more virility and stronger fibre, such as Lord Sandford and hischosen friends; for though many of them were wild young rakes, and not afew had a very doubtful record, yet Grey knew little enough about that,and found them not without attraction, although the higher part of hisnature revolted from much that he saw and heard. Nevertheless, heregarded it all as a part of the experience in life which he craved, andhe might have become in a short while just such another as these, had itnot been for an incident which suddenly arrested him in his career ofdissipation, and turned his thoughts into different channels.

  It had been early June when he came to town, and now July had come, withits sultry suns and breathless nights, when Grey ofttimes felt after anevening over cards that it was mockery to go to bed, and lounged awaythe residue of the night at his open window, enjoying the only coolnessand freshness that was to be had, as the wind came whispering from theriver charged with refreshing moisture.

  Sometimes the river seemed to call him; and at such times he would layaside his finery, clothe himself in some plainer habit, and betakehimself through the silent house, where the night watchman was alwaysfound slumbering at his post, out through the big courts and down to theriver steps, where a few light wherries were always kept moored, one ofwhich he would select, and shoot out upon the glimmering river to meetthe new day there.

  Some of his happiest hours were spent thus; and at such times as thesehe felt rising within him a vague sense of unrest and of disgust. Hehad come to the world of London to conquer fate, to make for himself aname and a career; and here he was wasting day after day incoffee-houses or clubs, with a crowd of idlers whose thoughts never roseabove the fancy of the hour, whose only ambition was to kill time aseasily and pleasantly as possible, and to line their pockets with gold,that they might have more to throw away on the morrow.

  Was this what he would come to? Was this what he was made for? Wouldhe become like unto them, a mere roisterer and boon companion, a manwithout aspirations and without ambition? His cheeks burned at thethought; and he sent his light craft spinning rapidly up the stream asthe questions formed themselves.

  It was an exquisite summer morning. The bells in the m
any towers andsteeples of the city had chimed the hour of five. The sun had long beenup, yet the glamour and glory of the new-born day still lay upon thesleeping city and the dewy meadows of the opposite shore. Grey rowed onrapidly, yet drinking in the beauty of all he saw. He knew not how farhe had rowed; he had lost count of his surroundings; he was absorbed ina deep reverie, when he was suddenly brought up breathless and wonderingby the sound of a voice singing--a voice so clear and sweet and truethat he asked himself whether it could be any creature of earth thatsang, or whether it might be some nymph or mermaid such as sailors spokeof in their wondrous tales.

  He gazed about him. He saw that he was passing a garden, and that agroup of weeping willows overhung the water at this spot. The singingseemed to come from thence. Burning curiosity possessed him, and hevery slowly and softly rowed himself onwards, till the prow of his boatmet the drooping boughs with a soft rustle. The song ceased suddenly.Grey turned in his seat, and drew himself within the sheltering shade;as he did so, a quick exclamation broke from him. He dropped his oarsas he exclaimed,--

  "The Lady Geraldine!"

  * * * * *

  How had it come about? Grey never could have said. But now it was alltold--the story of his chequered life. She had been silent at thefirst--not exactly resentful of his intrusion, not unwilling to let himhave speech of her again, but quiet, with a maidenly reserve and dignitywhich had acted upon him like a charm. It brought back to him thememory of his mother, and her noble dignity. The look in her eyesrecalled those things that he had learned at her knee, and thoseaspirations after true greatness of life which she had cherished andfostered. Suddenly his present life looked to him utterly sordid, mean,and unworthy; and in a burst of confidence, for which he could havegiven no reason, he told her all his tale, encouraged by the soft andearnest glances of her beautiful eyes, although she scarcely spoke aword from beginning to end.

  And now she looked at him with a great compassion in her face.

  "Oh, it is sad, it is sad!" she said in her earnest musical tones. "Iknow a little how sad it is. I see it too. But you are a man. You arestrong, you are your own master. Why do you let yourself be made thesport and plaything of fate? Oh, do not do it! Rise to your calling asa man, as a gentleman, as a Christian! You can--I know you can! I readit in your face! What is Lord Sandford to you? The acquaintance of afew weeks. What are his comrades to you? You know that in your heartyou despise them. Then will you make yourself as one of them? Will yousink to their level? Oh no, no, no! Break the fetters; they cannot befast riveted yet. Break them, and stand a free man, and then see whatthe world has to offer you."

  She was gazing at him now, not shyly, not as a maiden archly coquettingwith a handsome young swain, but as a woman yearning to reclaim onewhose footsteps had well-nigh slipped in the mire, and whose whole soulwas stirred by the effort.

  Grey listened like a man who dreams; and yet his eyes were on fire, andhis heart was kindled to a great flame--shame at his own weakness,yearnings after vanished memories and half-forgotten aspirationsstruggling together with some new and utterly unknown emotion whichseemed to come surging over him like a flood, leaving him speechless,motionless.

  She had risen, and now held out her hand.

  "You will triumph yet. I am assured of it. And I shall pray God togive you His strength and grace. Farewell, sir; we may meet againsometimes. I shall hear of you. I shall listen to hear naught butgood. Your mother's voice shall plead through mine. Give up evilcompanions; give up idle dissipation, and all that it brings in itstrain. Lead the higher life of the Courteous Knight, the SpotlessKnight, the Knight of the Holy Grail. Did we not speak of them all whenfirst we met, and methought you looked such a one yourself? Be true tothat better self; and so I say farewell again. May God be with you!"

  She was gone, and Grey stood looking after her as a man who sees avision.