The present degenerate custodian of its fortunes, staggering under the weight of its sentimental mortmain already alluded to, had speculated in order to keep up its material strength, that was gradually shrinking through impoverished land and the ruined trade it had despised.He had invested largely in California mines, and was the chief shareholder in a San Francisco Bank.But the mines had proved worthless, the Bank had that morning suspended payment,owing to the failure of a large land and timber company on the Sierras which it had imprudently "carried."The spark which had demolished Oldenhurst had been fired from the new telegraph-station in the hotel above the great Sierran canyon.
There was a large house-party at Oldenhurst that morning.But it had been a part of the history of the Mainwarings to accept defeat gallantly and as became their blood.Sir Percival,--the second gentleman on the left as you entered the library,--unhorsed, dying on a distant moor, with a handful of followers, abandoned by a charming Prince and a miserable cause, was scarcely a greater hero than this ruined but undaunted gentleman of eighty, entering the breakfast-room a few hours later as jauntily as his gout would permit, and conscientiously dispensing the hospitalities of his crumbling house.When he had arranged a few pleasure parties for the day and himself thoughtfully anticipated the different tastes of his guests, he turned to Lady Mainwaring.
"Don't forget that somebody ought to go to the station to meet the Bradleys.Frank writes from St. Moritz that they are due here to-day."
Lady Mainwaring glanced quickly at her husband, and said sotto voce, "Do you think they'll care to come NOW?They probably have heard all about it."
"Not how it affects me," returned Sir Robert, in the same tone;
"and as they might think that because Frank was with them on that California mountain we would believe it had something to do with Richardson involving the Bank in that wretched company, we must really INSIST upon their coming."
"Bradley!" echoed the Hon. Captain FitzHarry, overhearing the name during a late forage on the sideboard, "Bradley!--there was an awfully pretty American at Biarritz, travelling with a cousin, I think--a Miss Mason or Macy.Those sort of people, you know, who have a companion as pretty as themselves; bring you down with the other barrel if one misses--eh?Very clever, both of them, and hardly any accent."
"Mr. Bradley was a very dear friend of Frank's, and most kind to him," said Lady Mainwaring, gravely.
"Didn't know there WAS a Mr. Bradley, really.He didn't come to the fore, then," said the unabashed Captain."Deuced hard to follow up those American husbands!"
"And their wives wouldn't thank you, if you did," said Lady Griselda Armiger, with a sweet smile.
"If it is the Mrs. Bradley I mean," said Lady Canterbridge from the lower end of the table, looking up from her letter, "who looks a little like Mrs. Summertree, and has a pretty cousin with her who has very good frocks, I'm afraid you won't be able to get her down here.She's booked with engagements for the next six weeks.She and her cousin made all the running at Grigsby Royal, and she has quite deposed that other American beauty in Northforeland's good graces.She regularly affiche'd him, and it is piteous to see him follow her about.No, my dear; I don't believe they'll come to any one of less rank than a Marquis.If they did, I'm sure Canterbridge would have had them at Buckenthorpe already."
"I wonder if there was ever anything in Frank's admiration of this Miss Macy?" said Lady Mainwaring a few moments later, lingering beside her husband in his study.
"I really don't know," said Sir Robert, abstractedly: "his letters were filled with her praises, and Richardson thought--"
"Pray don't mention that man's name again," said Lady Mainwaring,with the first indication of feeling she had shown."I shouldn't trust him."
"But why do you ask?" returned her husband.
Lady Mainwaring was silent for a moment."She is very rich, I believe," she said slowly."At least, Frank writes that some neighbors of theirs whom he met in the Engadine told him they had sold the site of that absurd cottage where he was ill for some extravagant sum."
"My dear Geraldine," said the old man, affectionately, taking his wife's hand in his own, that now for the first time trembled, "if you have any hope based upon what you are thinking of now, let it be the last and least.You forget that Paget told us that with the best care he could scarcely ensure Frank's return to perfect health.Even if God in his mercy spared him long enough to take my place, what girl would be willing to tie herself to a man doomed to sickness and poverty?Hardly the one you speak of, my dear."
Lady Canterbridge proved a true prophet.Mrs. Bradley and Miss Macy did not come, regretfully alleging a previous engagement made on the continent with the Duke of Northforeland and the Marquis of Dungeness; but the unexpected and apocryphal husband DID arrive.
