The Master of the Ceremonies Part 57

"Pooh! That's nothing. Here, catch hold."

He slipped the case into his wife's hand, and she took it and pa.s.sed it under a fold of her satin dress.

Barclay strolled away to try and get hold of Lady Drelincourt, and just then Denville came up.

"My dear Mrs Barclay," he said, "you have been sitting all alone so long, and I could not get to you, and poor Claire is so busy."

"Oh, don't you mind me, Mr Denville. I'm n.o.body."

"But you must be faint."

"Well, since you put it like that, Mr Denville, I really have got such a dreadful feeling of sinking inside me that if it was only a sangwidge and a gla.s.s of sherry, I'd say bless you."

"Come then, my dear madam," said Denville. "This way."

She rose and took the offered arm, and Lord Carboro' smiled as the florid little woman went by him. Then he drew back by a curtain, and began taking snuff and watching Claire, as she now stood still, and he saw her meet Linnell's eyes just as Rockley, who had been watching his opportunity, was going up to her.

Linnell looked at her with eyes that said, "May I come?" and he read that long, calm, trustful gaze to say "Yes."

"Very nicely done. In a sweet maidenly way," said Lord Carboro'. "How cleverly a woman can do that sort of thing, making one man a s.h.i.+eld against another. By George! she is a queen--a woman of whom a man might be proud."

Rockley went scowling back, and threw himself on the seat where Mrs Barclay had been; and from where he stood Lord Carboro' looked at him sneeringly.

"Old, worn out, withered as I am, handsome Rockley, if Claire Denville became my wife, I shouldn't care a snap for you. Ugh! why, I must be standing just where old Teigne was smothered. How horrible! Pish, what matters! Why should I care, when her dear sister is laughing and showing her false teeth there just where the foot of the bedstead used to be. Sweet girlish creature; she's ogling that fat dragoon, and she'll marry him if she can."

He took another pinch of snuff.

"Hallo!" he muttered, "Payne after that little strawberry cream of a woman. We shall have a scandal there, as sure as fate, and--good girl, she sees through her and cuts the enemy out. Claire, my dear, you are indeed a little queen among women. I've never given you half the credit you deserve, and--damme!--never!--yes--no--yes!--the scoundrel! Well, that comes of reckless play. Curse it all, there must not be such a scandal as this. Where's Denville?"

He looked round, but the Master of the Ceremonies had not returned with Mrs Barclay.

Everybody was fully engaged, laughing, flirting, or card-playing.

a.s.signations were being made; money was changing hands, and the candles were burning down and guttering at the sides, as Lord Carboro'

exclaimed:

"Hang it! I did not think he could stoop to be such a scoundrel as that!"

Volume Two, Chapter XIII.

MAJOR ROCKLEY'S MISTAKE.

"Now, Barclay, you are a wicked flatterer," said Lady Drelincourt, as she sat out in the balcony, with the money-lender leaning over her after leading her there and placing a chair.

"I shall risk being rude in my rough way," said Barclay in a low voice, "and repeat my words. I said those l.u.s.trous diamonds would look perfect on your ladys.h.i.+p's beautiful throat."

"Now, you don't mean it, Barclay. I am not so young as I was, and my throat is not beautiful now."

"There, I'm a plain man," said Barclay; "I've no time for fine sayings and polished phrases, and what I say is this: I know your ladys.h.i.+p must be forty."

"Yes, Barclay, I am," said Lady Drelincourt, with a sigh.

"I'm fifty-five," he said, "and what I say is, how a woman with a skin like yours can utter such deprecatory sentiments is a puzzle. Why, half the women here would be proud of such a skin. Look how they paint.

Pah!"

"They do, Barclay; they do. Are the diamonds of good water?"

"Look," he said, holding them before him.

"No, no; some one in the room will see."

"I'll take care of that, my lady. Look at them. I daren't tell you whom they once belonged to, but they came to me through accidents at the gaming-table. They are perfect in match and size. Lady Drelincourt, you would not be doing yourself justice if you did not buy them. I wish I dare clasp them on."

"No, no; not now. How much did you say?"

"I am giving them away at four hundred guineas, Lady Drelincourt."

"Oh, but that's a terrible price, Barclay!"

"They will be worth more in a year or two, Lady Drelincourt."

"Oh, but I could not spare so much money."

"Pooh! what of that! If your ladys.h.i.+p likes the diamonds--"

"I do like them, Barclay."

"I should be happy to give your ladys.h.i.+p what credit you require."

"Really, this is very naughty of me, Barclay; it is, indeed, but I suppose I must have them. There, slip them into my hand. You can send me the case to-morrow."

"I will, my lady. You'll never regret the purchase, and I am delighted that they will be worn by the queen of Saltinville society."

"Go away, flatterer, and tell Sir Matthew Bray to bring me my salts. I left them on the chimney-piece."

"I fly," said Barclay; and he went through the rooms to perform his commission, Sir Matthew hurrying to get to her ladys.h.i.+p's side, while Barclay turned to meet his wife who was just returning with their host.

"Hallo!"

"Oh, I am so much better now, Jo-si-ah. I was so faint."

"Ah, Denville, I want a word with you," said Lord Carboro', coming up box in hand.

"I say, old lady," whispered Barclay, "got that bracelet safe?"

"Oh, yes, that's all right; but you can't have it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's right down at the very bottom of my pocket, where there's no getting at it at all. But you don't want it now?"