The Amateur Gentleman
Page 202"Four!" cried the Duchess, with a gurgle of youthful laughter.
"Oh, Jack! Jack! I protest, as you sit there you are growing more
youthful every minute."
"Gad so, mam! then I'll go before I become a mewling infant--I say a
puling brat, mam."
"Stay a moment, Jack. I want you to explain your wishes to Mr. Beverley
in regard to Cleone's future."
"Certainly, your Grace--I say by all means, mam."
"Very well, then I'll begin. Listen--both of you. Captain Chumly,
being a bachelor and consequently an authority on marriage, has,
very properly, chosen whom his ward must marry; he has quite settled
and arranged it all, haven't you, Jack?"
"Quite, mam, quite."
"Thus, Cleone is saved all the bother and worry of choosing for
isn't it, Jack?"
"As a rock, mam--I say as an accurs--ha! an adamantine crag, mam.
My ward shall marry my nephew, Viscount Devenham, I am determined
on it--"
"Consequently, Mr. Beverley, Cleone will, of course,
marry--whomsoever she pleases!"
"Eh, mam? I say, what?--I say--"
"Like the feminine creature she is, Mr. Beverley!"
"Now by Og,--I say by Og and Gog, mam! She is my ward, and so long
as I am her guardian she shall obey--"
"I say boh! Jack Chumly,--I say bah!" mocked the Duchess, nodding
her head at him. "Cleone is much too clever for you--or any other man,
and there is only one woman in this big world who is a match for her,
after year into--just what I was--ages ago,--and to-day she
is--almost as beautiful,--and--very nearly as clever!"
"Clever, mam? So she is, but I'm her guardian and--she loves
me--I think, and--"
"Of course she loves you, Jack, and winds you round her finger
whenever she chooses--"
"Finger, mam! finger indeed! No, mam, I can be firm with her."
"As a candle before the fire, Jack. She can bend you to all the
points of your compass. Come now, she brought you here this
afternoon against your will,--now didn't she?"
"Ah!--hum!" said the Captain, scratching his chin.
"And coaxed you into your famous Trafalgar uniform, now didn't she?"
"Why as to that, mam, I say--"
didn't she?"
"Which reminds me that it grows late, mam," said the Captain, taking
out his watch and frowning at it. "I must find my ward. I say I will
bring Cleone to make you her adieux." So saying, he bowed and strode
away across the lawn.
"Poor Jack," smiled the Duchess, "he is such a dear, good, obedient
child, and he doesn't know it. And so your name is Beverley, hum! Of the
Beverleys of Ashleydown? Yet, no,--that branch is extinct, I know. Pray
what branch are you? Why, here comes Sir Mortimer Carnaby,--heavens,
how handsome he is! And you thrashed him, I think? Oh, I know all
about it, sir, and I know--why!"