LITMIR.BIZ

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her see how it stung him.

      “I am afraid I should cut a poor figure in an encounter with my rival,” he said, smiling.

      “Call him out and shoot him,” said Alice, vivaciously. “Very likely he does not know how to use a pistol.”

      He smiled again; but had Alice known how seriously he entertained her suggestion for some moments before dismissing it as impracticable, she would not have offered it. Putting a bullet into Cashel struck him rather as a luxury which he could not afford than as a crime. Meanwhile, Alice, being now quite satisfied that this Mr. Webber, on whom she had wasted so much undeserved awe, might be treated as inconsiderately as she used to treat her beaux at Wiltstoken, proceeded to amuse herself by torturing him a little.

      “It is odd,” she said, reflectively, “that a common man like that should be able to make himself so very attractive to Lydia. It was not because he was such a fine man; for she does not care in the least about that. I don’t think she would give a second look at the handsomest man in London, she is so purely intellectual. And yet she used to delight in talking to him.”

      “Oh, that is a mistake. Lydia has a certain manner which leads people to believe that she is deeply interested in the person she happens to be speaking to; But it is only manner — it means nothing.”

      “I know that manner of hers perfectly well. But this was something quite different.”

      Lucian shook his head reproachfully. “I cannot jest on so serious a matter,” he said, resolving to make the attempt to re-establish his dignity with Alice. “I think, Miss Groff, that you perhaps hardly know how absurd your supposition is. There are not many men of distinction in Europe with whom my cousin is not personally acquainted. A very young girl, who had seen little of the world, might possibly be deceived by the exterior of such a man as Byron. A woman accustomed to associate with writers, thinkers, artists, statesmen, and diplomatists could make no such mistake. No doubt the man’s vulgarity and uncouth address amused her for a moment; but—”

      “But why did she ask him to come to her Friday afternoons?”

      “A mere civility which she extended to him because he assisted her in some difficulty she got into in the streets.”

      “She might as well have asked a policeman to come to see her. I don’t believe that was it.”

      Lucian at that moment hated Alice. “I am sorry you think such a thing possible,” he said. “Shall we resume our waltz?”

      Alice was not yet able to bear an implication that she did not understand society sufficiently to appreciate the distance between Lydia and Cashel.

      “Of course I know it is impossible,” she said, in her old manner. “I did not mean it.”

      Lucian found some difficulty in gathering from this what she did mean; and they presently took refuge in waltzing. Subsequently, Alice, fearing that her new lights had led her too far, drew back a little; led the conversation to political matters, and expressed her amazement at the extent and variety of the work he performed in Downing Street. He accepted her compliments with perfect seriousness; and she felt satisfied that she had, on the whole, raised herself in his esteem by her proceedings during the evening. But she was mistaken. She knew nothing of politics or official work, and he knew the worthlessness of her pretended admiration of his share in them, although he felt that it was right that she should revere his powers from the depths of her ignorance. What stuck like a burr in his mind was that she thought him small enough to be jealous of the poor boxer, and found his dancing awkward.

      After that dance Alice thought much about Lucian, and also about the way in which society regulated marriages. Before Miss Carew sent for her she had often sighed because all the nice men she knew of moved in circles into which an obscure governess had no chance of admission. She had received welcome attentions from them occasionally at subscription balls; but for sustained intimacy and proposals of marriage she had been dependent on the native youth of Wiltstoken, whom she looked upon as louts or prigs, and among whom Wallace Parker had shone preeminent as a university man, scholar, and gentleman. And now that she was a privileged beauty in society which would hardly tolerate Wallace Parker, she found that the nice men were younger sons, poor and extravagant, far superior to Lucian Webber as partners for a waltz, but not to be thought of as partners in domestic economy. Alice had experienced the troubles of poverty, and had never met with excellence in men except in poems, which she had long ago been taught to separate from the possibilities of actual life. She had, therefore, no conception of any degree of merit in a husband being sufficient to compensate for slender means of subsistence. She was not base-minded; nothing could have induced her to marry a man, however rich, whom she thought wicked. She wanted money; but she wanted more than money; and here it was that she found supply failing to answer the demand. For not only were all the handsome, gallant, wellbred men getting deeply into debt by living beyond smaller incomes than that with which Wallace Parker had tempted her, but many of those who had inherited both riches and rank were as inferior to him, both in appearance and address, as they were in scholarship. No man, possessing both wealth and amiability, had yet shown the least disposition to fall in love with her.

      One bright forenoon in July, Alice, attended by a groom, went to the park on horseback. The Row looked its best. The freshness of morning was upon horses and riders; there were not yet any jaded people lolling supine in carriages, nor discontented spectators sitting in chairs to envy them. Alice, who was a better horsewoman than might have been expected from the little practice she had had, appeared to advantage in the saddle. She had just indulged in a brisk canter from the Corner to the Serpentine, when she saw a large white horse approaching with Wallace Parker on its back.

      “Ah!” he exclaimed, expertly wheeling his steed and taking off his hat at the same time with an intentional display of gallantry and horsemanship. “How are you, Alice?”

      “Goodness!” cried Alice, forgetting her manners in her astonishment. “What brings you here; and where on earth did you get that horse?”

      “I presume, Alice,” said Parker, satisfied with the impression he had made, “that I am here for much the same reason as you are — to enjoy the morning in proper style. As for Rozinante, I borrowed him. Is that chestnut yours? Excuse the rudeness of the question.”

      “No,” said Alice, coloring a little. “This seems such an unlikely place to meet you.”

      “Oh, no. I always take a turn in the season. But certainly it would have been a very unlikely place for us to meet a year ago.”

      So far, Alice felt, she was getting the worst of the conversation. She changed the subject. “Have you been to Wiltstoken since I last saw you?”

      “Yes. I go there once every week at least.”

      “Every week! Janet never told me.”

      Parker implied by a cunning air that he thought he knew the reason of that; but he said nothing. Alice, piqued, would not condescend to make inquiries. So he said, presently,

      “How is Miss Thingumbob?”

      “I do not know any one of that name.”

      “You know very well whom I mean. Your aristocratic patron, Miss Carew.”

      Alice flushed. “You are very impertinent, Wallace,” she said, grasping her riding-whip. “How dare you call Miss Carew my patron?”

      Wallace suddenly became solemn. “I did not know that you objected to be reminded of all you owe her,” he said. “Janet never speaks ungratefully of her, though she has done nothing for Janet.”

      “I have not spoken ungratefully,” protested Alice, almost in tears. “I feel sure that you are never tired of speaking ill of me to them at home.”

      “That shows how little you understand my real character. I always make excuses for you.”

      “Excuses for what? What have I done? What do you mean?”

      “Oh, I don’t mean anything, if you don’t. I thought from your beginning to defend yourself that

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