heart was high with other hopes — in spite of her hysterics and her fears. The ‘Criminal Queens’ might be a great literary success. She almost thought that it would be a success. Messrs. Leadham and Loiter, the publishers, were civil to her. Mr Broune had promised. Mr Booker had said that he would see what could be done. She had gathered from Mr Alf’s caustic and cautious words that the book would be noticed in the ‘Evening Pulpit.’ No; — she would not take dear Roger’s advice as to leaving London. But she would continue to ask Roger’s advice. Men like to have their advice asked. And, if possible, she would arrange the marriage. What country retirement could be so suitable for a Lady Carbury when she wished to retire for awhile — as Carbury Manor, the seat of her own daughter? And then her mind would fly away into regions of bliss. If only by the end of this season Henrietta could be engaged to her cousin, Felix be the husband of the richest bride in Europe, and she be the acknowledged author of the cleverest book of the year, what a Paradise of triumph might still be open to her after all her troubles. Then the sanguine nature of the woman would bear her up almost to exultation, and for an hour she would be happy in spite of everything.
A few days after the ball Roger Carbury was up in town and was closeted with her in her back drawing-room. The declared cause of his coming was the condition of the baronet’s affairs and the indispensable necessity — so Roger thought — of taking some steps by which at any rate the young man’s present expenses might be brought to an end. It was horrible to him that a man who had not a shilling in the world or any prospect of a shilling, who had nothing and never thought of earning anything should have hunters! He was very much in earnest about it, and quite prepared to speak his mind to the young man himself — if he could get hold of him. ‘Where is he now, Lady Carbury — at this moment?’
‘I think he’s out with the Baron.’ Being ‘out with the Baron.’ meant that the young man was hunting with the staghounds some forty miles away from London.
‘How does he manage it? Whose horses does he ride? Who pays for them?’
‘Don’t be angry with me, Roger. What can I do to prevent it?’
‘I think you should refuse to have anything to do with him while he continues in such courses.’
‘My own son!’
‘Yes; — exactly. But what is to be the end of it? Is he to be allowed to ruin you and Hetta? It can’t go on long.’
‘You wouldn’t have me throw him over.’
‘I think he is throwing you over. And then it is so thoroughly dishonest — so ungentlemanlike! I don’t understand how it goes on from day to day. I suppose you don’t supply him with ready money?’
‘He has had a little.’
Roger frowned angrily. ‘I can understand that you should provide him with bed and food, but not that you should pander to his vices by giving him money.’ This was very plain speaking, and Lady Carbury winced under it. ‘The kind of life that he is leading requires a large income of itself. I understand the thing, and know that with all I have in the world I could not do it myself.’
‘You are so different.’
‘I am older of course — very much older. But he is not so young that he should not begin to comprehend. Has he any money beyond what you give him?’
Then Lady Carbury revealed certain suspicions which she had begun to entertain during the last day or two. ‘I think he has been playing.’
‘That is the way to lose money — not to get it.’ said Roger.
‘I suppose somebody wins — sometimes.’
‘They who win are the sharpers. They who lose are the dupes. I would sooner that he were a fool than a knave.’
‘O Roger, you are so severe!’
‘You say he plays. How would he pay, were he to lose?’
‘I know nothing about it. I don’t even know that he does play; but I have reason to think that during the last week he has had money at his command. Indeed I have seen it. He comes home at all manner of hours and sleeps late. Yesterday I went into his room about ten and did not wake him. There were notes and gold lying on his table; — ever so much.’
‘Why did you not take them?’
‘What; rob my own boy?’
‘When you tell me that you are absolutely in want of money to pay your own bills, and that he has not hesitated to take yours from you! Why does he not repay you what he has borrowed?’
‘Ah, indeed; — why not? He ought to if he has it. And there were papers there; — I.O.U.‘s signed by other men.’
‘You looked at them.’
‘I saw as much as that. It is not that I am curious but one does feel about one’s own son. I think he has bought another horse. A groom came here and said something about it to the servants.’
‘Oh dear oh dear!’
‘If you could only induce him to stop the gambling! Of course it is very bad whether he wins or loses — though I am sure that Felix would do nothing unfair. Nobody ever said that of him. If he has won money, it would be a great comfort if he would let me have some of it — for to tell the truth. I hardly know how to turn. I am sure nobody can say that I spend it on myself.’
Then Roger again repeated his advice. There could be no use in attempting to keep up the present kind of life in Welbeck Street. Welbeck Street might be very well without a penniless spendthrift such as Sir Felix but must be ruinous under the present conditions. If Lady Carbury felt, as no doubt she did feel, bound to afford a home to her ruined son in spite of all his wickedness and folly, that home should be found far away from London. If he chose to remain in London, let him do so on his own resources. The young man should make up his mind to do something for himself. A career might possibly be opened for him in India. ‘If he be a man he would sooner break stones than live on you.’ said Roger. Yes, he would see his cousin to-morrow and speak to him; — that is if he could possibly find him. “Young men who gamble all night, and hunt all day are not easily found.” But he would come at twelve as Felix generally breakfasted at that hour. Then he gave an assurance to Lady Carbury which to her was not the least comfortable part of the interview. In the event of her son not giving her the money which she at one once required he, Roger, would lend her a hundred pounds till her half year’s income should be due. After that his voice changed altogether, as he asked a question on another subject. ‘Can I see Henrietta to-morrow?’
‘Certainly; — why not? She is at, home now, I think.’
‘I will wait till to-morrow — when I call to see Felix. I should like her to know that I am coming. Paul Montague was in town the other day. He was here, I suppose?’
‘Yes; — he called.’
‘Was that all you saw of him?’
‘He was at the Melmottes’ ball. Felix got a card for him; — and we were there. Has he gone down to Carbury?’
‘No; — not to Carbury. I think he had some business about his partners at Liverpool. There is another case of a young man without anything to do. Not that Paul is at all like Sir Felix.’ This he was
