is the sugar-basin, Mr. Grimsby. Now you have spoiled the sugar too; and I’ll thank you to ring for some more, for here is Lord Lowborough at last; and I hope his lordship will condescend to sit down with us, such as we are, and allow me to give him some tea.’
His lordship gravely bowed in answer to my appeal, but said nothing. Meantime, Hargrave volunteered to ring for the sugar, while Grimsby lamented his mistake, and attempted to prove that it was owing to the shadow of the urn and the badness of the lights.
Lord Lowborough had entered a minute or two before, unobserved by anyone but me, and had been standing before the door, grimly surveying the company. He now stepped up to Annabella, who sat with her back towards him, with Hattersley still beside her, though not now attending to her, being occupied in vociferously abusing and bullying his host.
‘Well, Annabella,’ said her husband, as he leant over the back of her chair, ‘which of these three “bold, manly spirits” would you have me to resemble?’
‘By heaven and earth, you shall resemble us all!’ cried Hattersley, starting up and rudely seizing him by the arm. ‘Hallo, Huntingdon!’ he shouted—‘I’ve got him! Come, man, and help me! And d—n me, if I don’t make him drunk before I let him go! He shall make up for all past delinquencies as sure as I’m a living soul!’
There followed a disgraceful contest: Lord Lowborough, in desperate earnest, and pale with anger, silently struggling to release himself from the powerful madman that was striving to drag him from the room. I attempted to urge Arthur to interfere in behalf of his outraged guest, but he could do nothing but laugh.
‘Huntingdon, you fool, come and help me, can’t you!’ cried Hattersley, himself somewhat weakened by his excesses.
‘I’m wishing you God-speed, Hattersley,’ cried Arthur, ‘and aiding you with my prayers: I can’t do anything else if my life depended on it! I’m quite used up. Oh—oh!’ and leaning back in his seat, he clapped his hands on his sides and groaned aloud.
‘Annabella, give me a candle!’ said Lowborough, whose antagonist had now got him round the waist and was endeavouring to root him from the door-post, to which he madly clung with all the energy of desperation.
‘I shall take no part in your rude sports!’ replied the lady coldly drawing back. ‘I wonder you can expect it.’ But I snatched up a candle and brought it to him. He took it and held the flame to Hattersley’s hands, till, roaring like a wild beast, the latter unclasped them and let him go. He vanished, I suppose to his own apartment, for nothing more was seen of him till the morning. Swearing and cursing like a maniac, Hattersley threw himself on to the ottoman beside the window. The door being now free, Milicent attempted to make her escape from the scene of her husband’s disgrace; but he called her back, and insisted upon her coming to him.
‘What do you want, Ralph?’ murmured she, reluctantly approaching him.
‘I want to know what’s the matter with you,’ said he, pulling her on to his knee like a child. ‘What are you crying for, Milicent?—Tell me!’
‘I’m not crying.’
‘You are,’ persisted he, rudely pulling her hands from her face. ‘How dare you tell such a lie!’
‘I’m not crying now,’ pleaded she.
‘But you have been, and just this minute too; and I will know what for. Come, now, you shall tell me!’
‘Do let me alone, Ralph! Remember, we are not at home.’
‘No matter: you shall answer my question!’ exclaimed her tormentor; and he attempted to extort the confession by shaking her, and remorselessly crushing her slight arms in the gripe of his powerful fingers.
‘Don’t let him treat your sister in that way,’ said I to Mr. Hargrave.
‘Come now, Hattersley, I can’t allow that,’ said that gentleman, stepping up to the ill-assorted couple. ‘Let my sister alone, if you please.’
And he made an effort to unclasp the ruffian’s fingers from her arm, but was suddenly driven backward, and nearly laid upon the floor by a violent blow on the chest, accompanied with the admonition, ‘Take that for your insolence! and learn to interfere between me and mine again.’
‘If you were not drunk, I’d have satisfaction for that!’ gasped Hargrave, white and breathless as much from passion as from the immediate effects of the blow.
‘Go to the devil!’ responded his brother-in-law. ‘Now, Milicent, tell me what you were crying for.’
‘I’ll tell you some other time,’ murmured she, ‘when we are alone.’
‘Tell me now!’ said he, with another shake and a squeeze that made her draw in her breath and bite her lip to suppress a cry of pain.
‘I’ll tell you, Mr. Hattersley,’ said I. ‘She was crying from pure shame and humiliation for you; because she could not bear to see you conduct yourself so disgracefully.’
‘Confound you, Madam!’ muttered he, with a stare of stupid amazement at my ‘impudence.’ ‘It was not that—was it, Milicent?’
She was silent.
‘Come, speak up, child!’
‘I can’t tell now,’ sobbed she.
‘But you can say “yes” or “no” as well as “I can’t tell.”—Come!’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, hanging her head, and blushing at the awful acknowledgment.
‘Curse you for an impertinent hussy, then!’ cried he, throwing her from him with such violence that she fell on her side; but she was up again before either I or her brother could come to her assistance, and made the best of her way out of the room, and, I suppose, up-stairs, without loss of time.
The next object of assault was Arthur, who sat opposite, and had, no doubt, richly enjoyed the whole scene.
‘Now, Huntingdon,’ exclaimed his irascible friend, ‘I will not have you sitting there and laughing like an idiot!’
‘Oh, Hattersley,’ cried he, wiping his swimming eyes—‘you’ll be the death of me.’
‘Yes, I will, but not as you suppose: I’ll have the heart out of your body, man, if you irritate me with any more of that imbecile laughter!—What! are you at it yet?—There! see if that’ll settle you!’ cried Hattersley, snatching up a footstool and hurting it at the head of his host; but he as well as missed his aim, and the latter still sat collapsed and quaking with feeble laughter, with tears running down his face: a deplorable spectacle indeed.
Hattersley tried cursing and swearing, but it would not do: he then took a number of books from the table beside him, and threw them, one by one, at the object of his wrath; but Arthur only laughed the more; and, finally, Hattersley rushed upon him in a frenzy and seizing him by the shoulders, gave him a violent shaking, under which he laughed and shrieked alarmingly. But I saw no more: I thought I had witnessed enough of my husband’s degradation; and leaving Annabella and the rest to follow when they pleased, I withdrew, but not to bed. Dismissing Rachel to her rest, I walked up and
