The Child Wife

Chapter Forty.

A Cautious Baronet

The baronet looked a little blank, as the open parlour door discovered inside a “party” he had no intention of calling upon.

Accustomed to such surprises, however, he was not disconcerted. He had some knowledge of the ex-guardsman’s character. He knew he was in ill-luck; and that under such circumstances he would not be exactingly inquisitive.

“Aw, Swinton, my dear fellaw,” he exclaimed, holding out his kid-gloved hand. “Delighted to see you again. Madam told me she expected you home. I just dropped in, hoping to find you returned. Been to Paris, I hear?”

“I have,” said Swinton, taking the hand with a show of cordiality.

“Terrible times over there. Wonder you came off with a whole skin?”

“By Jove, it’s about all I brought off with me.”

“Aw, indeed! What mean you by that?”

“Well; I went over to get some money that’s been long owing me. Instead of getting it, I lost what little I carried across.”

“How did you do that, my dear fellaw?”

“Well, the truth is, I was tempted into card-playing with some French officers I chanced to meet at the Mille Colonnes. It was their cursed écarté. They knew the game better than I; and very soon cleared me out. I had barely enough to bring me back again. I thank God I’m here once more; though how I’m going to weather it this winter, heaven only knows! You’ll excuse me, Sir Robert, for troubling you with this confession of my private affairs. I’m in such a state of mind, I scarce know what I’m saying. Confound France and Frenchmen! I don’t go among them again; not if I know it.”

Sir Robert Cottrell, though supposed to be rich, was not accustomed to squandering money – upon men. With women he was less penurious; though with these only a spendthrift, when their smiles could not be otherwise obtained. He was one of those gallants who prefer making conquests at the cheapest possible rates; and, when made, rarely spend money to secure them. Like the butterfly, he liked flitting from flower to flower.

That he had not dropped in hoping to find Mr Swinton, but had come on purpose to visit his wife, the craven husband knew just as well as if he had openly avowed it. And the motive, too; all the more from such a shallow excuse.

It was upon the strength of this knowledge that the ex-guardsman was so communicative about his financial affairs. It was a delicate way of making it known, that he would not be offended by the offer of a trifling loan.

Sir Robert was in a dilemma. A month earlier he would have much less minded it. But during that month he had met Mrs Swinton several times, in the Long Walk, as elsewhere. He had been fancying his conquest achieved, and did not feel disposed to pay for a triumph already obtained.

For this reason he was slow to perceive the hint so delicately thrown out to him.

Swinton reflected on a way to make it more understandable. The débris of the frugal déjeuner came to his assistance.

“Look!” said he, pointing to the picked bones of the herring with an affectation of gaiety, “look there, Sir Robert! You might fancy it to be Friday. That fine fish was purchased with the last penny in my pocket. To-morrow is Friday; and I suppose I shall have to keep Lent still more austerely. Ha! ha! ha!”

There was no resisting such an appeal as this. The close-fisted aristocrat felt himself fairly driven into a corner.

“My dear fellaw!” said he, “don’t talk in that fashion. If a fiver will be of any service to you, I hope you will do me the favour to accept it. I know you won’t mind it from me?”

“Sir Robert, it is too kind. I – I – ”

“Don’t mention it. I shouldn’t think of offering you such a paltry trifle; but just now my affairs are a little queerish. I dropped a lot upon the last Derby; and my lawyer is trying to raise a further mortgage on my Devonshire estate. If that can be effected, things will, of course, be different. Meanwhile, take this. It may pass you over your present difficulty, till something turns up.”

“Sir Robert, I – ”

“No apology, Swinton! It is I who owe it, for the shabby sum.”

The ex-guardsman ceased to resist; and the five-pound note, pressed into his palm was permitted to remain there.

“By the bye, Swinton,” said the baronet, as if to terminate the awkward scene by obliging the borrower in a more business-like way, “why don’t you try to get something from the Government? Excuse a fellaw for taking the liberty; but it seems to me, a man of your accomplishments ought to stand a chance.”

“Not the slightest, Sir Robert! I have no interest; and if I had, there’s that ugly affair that got me out of the Guards. You know the story; and therefore I needn’t tell it you. That would be sure to come up if I made any application.”

“All stuff, my dear fellaw! Don’t let that stand in your way. It might, if you wanted to get into the Household, or be made a bishop. You don’t aspire to either, I presume?”

The ex-guardsman gave a lugubrious laugh.

“No!” he said. “I’d be contented with something less. Just now my ambition don’t soar extravagantly high.”

“Suppose you try Lord – , who has Government influence? In these troublous times there’s no end of employment, and for men whose misfortunes don’t need to be called to remembrance. Yours won’t stand in the way. I know his lordship personally. He’s not at all exacting.”

“You know him, Sir Robert?”

“Intimately. And if I’m not mistaken, he’s just the man to serve you; that is, by getting you some appointment? The diplomatic service has grown wonderfully, since the breaking out of these revolutions. More especially the secret branch of it. I’ve reason to know that enormous sums are now spent upon it. Then, why shouldn’t you try to get a pull out of the secret service chest?”

Swinton relit his pipe, and sat cogitating.

“A pipe don’t become a guardsman,” jokingly remarked his guest. “The favourites of the Foreign Office smoke only regalias.”

Swinton received this sally with a smile, that showed the dawning of a new hope.

“Take one?” continued the baronet, presenting his gold-clasped case.

Swinton pitched the briar-root aside, and set fire to the cigar.

“You are right, Sir Robert,” he said; “I ought to try for something. It’s very good of you to give me the advice. But how am I to follow it? I have no acquaintance with the nobleman you speak of; nor have any of my friends.”

“Then you don’t count me as one of them?”

“Dear Cottrell! Don’t talk that way! After what’s passed between us, I should be an ungrateful fellow if I didn’t esteem you as the first of them – perhaps the only friend I have left.”

“Well, I’ve spoken plainly. Haven’t I said that I know Lord – well enough to give you a letter of introduction to him? I won’t say it will serve any purpose; you must take your chances of that. I can only promise that he will receive you; and if you’re not too particular as to the nature of the employment, I think he may get you something. You understand me, Swinton?”

“I particular! Not likely, Sir Robert, living in this mean room, with the remembrance of that luxurious breakfast I’ve just eaten – myself and my poor wife!”

“Aw – by the way, I owe madam an apology for having so long neglected to ask after her. I hope she is well?”

“Thank you! Well as the dear child can be expected, with such trouble upon us.”

“Shall I not have the pleasure of seeing her?”

The visitor asked the question without any pretence of indifference. He felt it – just then, not desiring to encounter her in such company.

“I shall see, Sir Robert,” replied the husband, rising from his chair, and going toward the bedroom. “I rather suspect Fan’s en dishabille at this hour.”

Sir Robert secretly hoped that she was. Under the circumstances, an interview with her could only be awkward.