place.
Towards me, she was still frigidly contemptuous. But as to that, I did not care. I was determined to endure her worst gibes for the sake of dwelling under the same roof which still had the privilege of sheltering You.
It was one day early in September – just something over a year ago, in fact – that my Lord Stour called at the house of Mr. Theophilus Baggs. I knew him at once for the Cavalier who was ever in attendance upon the Lady Barbara Wychwoode and whom rumour had assigned to her as her future Husband.
Frankly, I had never liked him from the first. I thought him overbearing and arrogant. His manner towards those who were inferior to him in station was always one of contempt. And I often wondered how Mr. Theophilus Baggs, who was an Attorney of some standing in the City of London, could endure the cool insolence wherewith young Gentlemen like my Lord Stour and others were wont to treat him. Not only that, but he seemed to derive a sort of gratification from it, and was wont to repeat – I was almost going to say that he would boast of – these acts of overbearance to which he was so often subjected.
"Another of the stiff-necked sort," he would say after he had bowed one of these fine Gentlemen obsequiously out of his office. "An honest, God-fearing Man is as dirt beneath the feet of these Gallants."
My Lord Stour, of a truth, was no exception to the rule. I have since been assured that he was quite kindly and gracious in himself, and that his faults were those of the Milieu in which he had been brought up, rather than of himself.
Of course, You, dear Mistress, were out of the house during the whole of that never-to-be-forgotten day of which I am about to speak, and therefore knew nothing of the terrible Event which then occurred and which, in my humble judgment, completely revolutionized Mr. Betterton's character for the time being. But Fate had decreed that I should see it all. Every moment of that awful afternoon is indelibly graven upon my Memory. I had, however, neither the Chance nor the Opportunity to speak to You of it all. At first I did not think that it would be expedient. The humiliation which Mr. Betterton was made to endure on that day was such that I could not bear to speak of it, least of all to You, who still held him in such high esteem. And later on, I still thought it best to be silent. Mr. Betterton and You seemed to have drifted apart so completely, that I did not feel that it would do any good to rake up old hurts, and to submit them to the cruel light of day.
But now everything is changed. The Lady Barbara's influence over Mr. Betterton has gone, never to return; whilst his Heart once more yearns for the only true Love which has ever gladdened it.
My Lord Stour came to call upon Mr. Theophilus Baggs at three o'clock of the afternoon. Kathleen, the maid of all work, opened the door to him, and Mistress Euphrosine received him in the Parlour, where I was also sitting at my desk, engaged in copying out a lengthy Indenture.
"Master Baggs awaits me, I think," my Lord said as he entered the room.
Mistress Euphrosine made a deep curtsey, for she was ever fond of the Aristocracy.
"Will you deign to enter, my Lord?" she said. "My husband will wait upon your pleasure."
"Tell him to be quick, then," said my Lord; "for I have not a great deal of time to spare."
He seated himself beside the table and drew off his gloves. He had taken absolutely no notice of my respectful salutation.
Mistress Euphrosine sailed out of the room and a moment or two later Mr. Baggs came in, carrying a sheaf of papers and looking very fussy and obsequious.
My Lord did not rise to greet him, only turned his head in his direction and said curtly:
"You are Mr. Theophilus Baggs, Attorney-at-law?"
"At your Lordship's service," replied my employer.
"Brother-in-law of Tom Betterton, the Actor, so I am told," my Lord went on with quiet condescension.
This innocent remark, however, appeared to upset Mr. Baggs. He stammered and grew as red as a turkey-cock, not realizing that his connection with the great Actor was truly an honour upon his Name. He hemmed and hawed and looked unutterably foolish, as he mumbled confusedly:
"Er … that is … only occasionally, my Lord … very occasionally, I may say … that is … I…"
"Pray calm yourself," broke in my Lord haughtily. "I admire the fellow's acting … the Man himself does not exist for me."
"You are most gracious, my Lord," murmured Mr. Baggs promptly, whilst I could have struck him for his obsequiousness and his Lordship for his arrogance.
It seems that the matter which had brought Lord Stour to Mr. Baggs' office was one of monies connected with the winding-up of the affairs of the late Earl, uncle of the present Peer. I was busy with my work during the time that these affairs were being discussed and did not pay much heed to the conversation. Only two fragments thereof struck mine ear. I remember, chiefly because they were so characteristic of the two men – the Aristocrat and the Plebeian – and of the times in which we live.
At one time Mr. Baggs ventured to enquire after the health of the Honourable Mrs. Stourcliffe, his Lordship's mother; and you should have heard the tone of frigid pride wherewith my Lord seemed to repel any such presumptuous enquiries.
The other fragment which I overheard was towards the end of the interview, when Mr. Theophilus Baggs, having counted over the Money before his Lordship, placed a Paper before him and bade me bring him a pen.
"What's this?" queried my Lord, astonished.
"Oh!" Mr. Baggs stammered, with his habitual humility of demeanour, "a mere formality, my Lord … er … h'm … only a … er … receipt."
"A receipt?" my Lord asked, with an elevation of his aristocratic brows. "What for?"
"Er … er…" Mr. Baggs stammered. "For the monies, my Lord. That is … er … if you will deign to count it over yourself … and see that it is correct."
At this, my Lord rose from his seat, waved me aside, took and pocketed the money. Then he said coolly to Mr. Baggs:
"No, Sir; I do not care to count. My Uncle knew You to be honest, or he would not have placed his affairs in your hands. That is sufficient for me. I, on the other hand, have received the money… That is sufficient for You."
"But – !" ejaculated Mr. Baggs, driven out of his timidity by such summary procedure.
"Egad, Sir!" broke in my Lord, more haughtily than before. "Are you perchance supposing that I might claim money which I have already had?"
"No … no!" protested Mr. Baggs hastily. "I assure you, my Lord … er … that it is … h'm … a mere formality … and…"
"My word," retorted my Lord coolly, "is sufficient formality."
Whereupon he turned to the door, taking no more notice of me than if I were the doormat. He nodded to Mr. Baggs, who was of a truth too deeply shaken to speak, and with a curt "I wish you good-day, Mr. Notary!" strode out of the room.
I doubt not, Mistress, that You and many others of gentle Manners if not of gentle Birth, would think that in recounting this brief interview between my employer and the young Earl of Stour, I have been guilty of exaggeration in depicting my Lord's arrogance. Yet, on my word, it all occurred just as I have told it. No doubt that Mr. Baggs' obsequiousness must have been irritating, and that it literally called forth the haughty Retort which otherwise might have remained
