The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

else. I could not tell him not to speak to me. I danced with him twice.” Her mother was seated, with both her hands up to her forehead, and shook her head. “If you did not want me to speak to Paul you should not have taken me there.”

“I don’t wish to prevent your speaking to him. You know what I want.” Henrietta came up and kissed her, and bade her good night. “I think I am the unhappiest woman in all London,” she said, sobbing hysterically.

“Is it my fault, mamma?”

“You could save me from much if you would. I work like a horse, and I never spend a shilling that I can help. I want nothing for myself⁠—nothing for myself. Nobody has suffered as I have. But Felix never thinks of me for a moment.”

“I think of you, mamma.”

“If you did you would accept your cousin’s offer. What right have you to refuse him? I believe it is all because of that young man.”

“No, mamma; it is not because of that young man. I like my cousin very much;⁠—but that is all. Good night, mamma.” Lady Carbury just allowed herself to be kissed, and then was left alone.

At eight o’clock the next morning daybreak found four young men who had just risen from a card-table at the Beargarden. The Beargarden was so pleasant a club that there was no rule whatsoever as to its being closed⁠—the only law being that it should not be opened before three in the afternoon. A sort of sanction had, however, been given to the servants to demur to producing supper or drinks after six in the morning, so that, about eight, unrelieved tobacco began to be too heavy even for juvenile constitutions. The party consisted of Dolly Longestaffe, Lord Grasslough, Miles Grendall, and Felix Carbury, and the four had amused themselves during the last six hours with various innocent games. They had commenced with whist, and had culminated during the last half-hour with blind hookey. But during the whole night Felix had won. Miles Grendall hated him, and there had been an expressed opinion between Miles and the young lord that it would be both profitable and proper to relieve Sir Felix of the winnings of the last two nights. The two men had played with the same object, and being young had shown their intention⁠—so that a certain feeling of hostility had been engendered. The reader is not to understand that either of them had cheated, or that the baronet had entertained any suspicion of foul play. But Felix had felt that Grendall and Grasslough were his enemies, and had thrown himself on Dolly for sympathy and friendship. Dolly, however, was very tipsy.

At eight o’clock in the morning there came a sort of settling, though no money then passed. The ready-money transactions had not lasted long through the night. Grasslough was the chief loser, and the figures and scraps of paper which had been passed over to Carbury, when counted up, amounted to nearly £2,000. His lordship contested the fact bitterly, but contested it in vain. There were his own initials and his own figures, and even Miles Grendall, who was supposed to be quite wide awake, could not reduce the amount. Then Grendall had lost over £400 to Carbury⁠—an amount, indeed, that mattered little, as Miles could, at present, as easily have raised £40,000. However, he gave his I.O.U. to his opponent with an easy air. Grasslough, also, was impecunious; but he had a father⁠—also impecunious, indeed; but with them the matter would not be hopeless. Dolly Longestaffe was so tipsy that he could not even assist in making up his own account. That was to be left between him and Carbury for some future occasion.

“I suppose you’ll be here tomorrow⁠—that is tonight,” said Miles.

“Certainly⁠—only one thing,” answered Felix.

“What one thing?”

“I think these things should be squared before we play any more!”

“What do you mean by that?” said Grasslough angrily. “Do you mean to hint anything?”

“I never hint anything, my Grassy,” said Felix. “I believe when people play cards, it’s intended to be ready-money, that’s all. But I’m not going to stand on p’s and q’s with you. I’ll give you your revenge tonight.”

“That’s all right,” said Miles.

“I was speaking to Lord Grasslough,” said Felix. “He is an old friend, and we know each other. You have been rather rough tonight, Mr. Grendall.”

“Rough;⁠—what the devil do you mean by that?”

“And I think it will be as well that our account should be settled before we begin again.”

“A settlement once a week is the kind of thing I’m used to,” said Grendall.

There was nothing more said; but the young men did not part on good terms. Felix, as he got himself taken home, calculated that if he could realize his spoil, he might begin the campaign again with horses, servants, and all luxuries as before. If all were paid, he would have over £3,000!

VI Roger Carbury and Paul Montague

Roger Carbury, of Carbury Hall, the owner of a small property in Suffolk, was the head of the Carbury family. The Carburys had been in Suffolk a great many years⁠—certainly from the time of the War of the Roses⁠—and had always held up their heads. But they had never held them very high. It was not known that any had risen ever to the honour of knighthood before Sir Patrick, going higher than that, had been made a baronet. They had, however, been true to their acres and their acres true to them through the perils of civil wars, Reformation, Commonwealth, and Revolution, and the head Carbury of the day had always owned, and had always lived at, Carbury Hall. At the beginning of the present century the squire of Carbury had been a considerable man, if not in his county, at any rate in his part of the county. The income of the estate had sufficed to enable him to live plenteously and hospitably, to drink port