When the carriage came from Belgrave Square, those within it were not aware that it was followed by a hansom cab, from which a person having the appearance of a gentleman alighted near Vauxhall Pier, and addressing the footman, said, in a very civil tone, calculated to obtain a response:

“Pray is this Lady Thicknesse’s carriage?”

“It is, sir,” replied the man, touching his hat.

“Is her ladyship with it?” pursued the inquirer.

“No, sir. We only brought the two young ladies here.”

“Are they gone to the Palace?”

“I don’t think so, sir. They have got the lady’s-maid with them.”

“Then I know where they are. Thank you very much.”

And he walked off in the direction of Spencer’s Rents.

As the individual we have mentioned, who was by no means bad-looking, walked on, he considered within himself what course he should take, and being utterly unscrupulous, he determined to go to the house and see Rose, whatever might be the consequences.

Just as he arrived at the corner of Spencer’s Rents he encountered Harry Netterville, whom he knew by sight, and accosted him without hesitation.

“Can you tell me which is Mrs. Hartley’s house?” he asked.

Netterville had no idea who stood before him; but he was surprised at the inquiry, and rejoined rather sharply:

“Pray what business have you with Mrs. Hartley?”

“I might decline to give an explanation to an inquiry put in such terms,” said the other, “but I have no objection to tell you that I wish to speak to her about her daughter.”

“Her daughter!” exclaimed Netterville, starting back, and assuming an angry look. “Perhaps you are the very person of whom I am in quest? Have you recently addressed a letter to Miss Hartley? Have you written to me?”

“I have written no letters at all,” replied the stranger. “My object is to warn Mrs. Hartley against a certain individual.”

“Who is he?” demanded the attorney’s clerk, eagerly.

“A very designing individual named Henry Netterville,” replied the stranger.

So astounded was Netterville, that for a moment he could hardly reply. At length, he said:

“What have you to allege against the person whose name you have mentioned?”

“Much! But it is for Mrs. Hartley’s ear. I am not likely to communicate to one unknown to me!”

“Then learn, sir, to your confusion, that I am Henry Netterville!”

“Indeed!” exclaimed the other. “I shall not retract a word I have said. I shall convince Mrs. Hartley that she ought to get rid of you.

“For what reason?” demanded Netterville. “Show cause why!”

“I propose to do so. But since you force me to speak, I will say you are acting a most dishonourable part. You profess love for Rose, when you are making love to another. You offer her your hand, when you are already engaged.”

“I engaged!” exclaimed Netterville. “This is news to me. To whom am I engaged, pray?”

“To Miss Clotilde Tripp, if I am rightly informed,” replied the accuser. “If not to her, to Miss Flora Sicklemore.”

“You must be confounding me with Tom Tankard,” said Netterville. “I never paid the young ladies in question the slightest attention. And now allow me to ask a question? Who are you, sir, who interest yourself so much in my concerns, and of whom I know nothing? I am not aware that I ever saw you before; but though you pretend ignorance, I strongly suspect that you know me very well. I believe you are the person who have been annoying Rose. I think you wrote the lying epistle to me, and the unmanly letters to her. You imposed upon me for a time, but I have now found you out. Accident has delivered you into my hands, and I don’t mean to part with you. Rose is at home at this moment. Come with me and apologise to her, or I’ll break every bone in your body!”

“I will do nothing of the sort,” replied Romney, for it was he.

“We’ll see that!” cried Netterville.

And springing upon him suddenly, he caught him by the collar and dragged him towards the house, which was not very far off.

Finding his struggles ineffectual, Romney submitted, for he did not care to call out for assistance, as that would have led to an exposure, which he desired to avoid.

It chanced at this precise moment, that the door of Mrs. Hartley’s house opened, and the two young ladies came forth, attended by Rose; but the spectacle that greeted their eyes sent them instantly back, for they guessed what had occurred.

Another ineffectual struggle took place at the door; but Romney was dragged in by Netterville, and forced into the parlour, whither the ladies had retreated with Rose and her mother.

“Beg pardon, ladies!” said Netterville, still keeping fast hold of his captive. “I hope you’ll excuse the intrusion!”

“Oh, never mind us!” they rejoined. “We are glad you have caught the wretch!”

“Is this the scoundrel who has annoyed you, Rose!” said Netterville.

“It is!” she replied.

“Then down on your knees, and ask her forgiveness!” said Netterville to his prisoner.

And he forced him to this humiliating posture.

“I have done nothing to call for this usage!” said Romney.

“You deserve a horsewhip!” cried Mrs. Hartley. “And if my husband were here, you’d have it!”

“Dare you say to my face that you have not several times annoyed me in the street?” asked Rose. “Do you deny writing those shameful letters to me?”

“I should not have written them if you had not given me encouragement!” he rejoined.

“It is false!” cried Rose. “I have never given you any encouragement. I detest you!”

“We do not believe a word he says, Rose!” cried Mildred, in accents of scorn and indignation. “Let him go, Mr. Netterville. The presence of such a creature is disagreeable to us!”

“Begone!” cried Netterville, releasing him, in obedience to the injunction. “Begone, I say, double-convicted liar and coward!”

And as Romney departed, he kicked him through the open door into the street.

The crestfallen blackleg stood for a moment before the house, as if about to return; but he had not the courage to face Netterville, and sneaked off.

“I think you have now got rid of him, Rose!” said Netterville, as he returned to the parlour.

“Yes; he won’t trouble, her again, I’m sure!” cried Emmeline. “You have served him quite right!”

“You are a brave fellow, Harry!” cried Rose, taking his hand, and gazing at him proudly and affectionately.

“And a lucky fellow as well!” he replied. “If this stupid scoundrel had not thrown himself in my way, I should not have caught him so quickly!”

IX. CAPTAIN DANVERS ARRIVES IN BELGRAVE SQUARE

Two days after the incident just related, the party at Lady Thicknesse’s house in Belgrave Square was increased by the arrival of her nephew, Captain Danvers, whom she had invited to spend a week with her.

By this time, Mildred’s resentment had, in some degree, abated, though she still treated him with coldness. But the captain looked so unhappy, that her heart was touched with compassion, and she soon showed a disposition to relent.

One morning on coming down to breakfast, he found her and Emmeline in the dining-room, and the latter perceiving she was rather in the way good-naturedly left them together.

The captain immediately took advantage of the opportunity.

“Mildred,” he said, in his softest tone, “will you allow me to offer an explanation?”

“I do not want any explanation, Captain Danvers,” she replied. “I have ceased to take any interest in you.”

“I hope not,” he replied; “I trust I may be able to exculpate myself!”

“You will find that rather difficult!” she said.

“Yet hear me, I implore you!” he entreated in such moving accents, that she could not refuse.

“First, let me inquire whether Mrs Calverley has sent you any special information?” he said.

“I have not heard from her for nearly a week,” she replied. “Indeed, I have not written to her.”

“Then you are not aware that all is at an end between us?”

“Your brother, Scrope, told me that the engagement was broken off.”

“Did he tell you it was broken off by me?”

“He did,” she replied, colouring slightly.

“Mildred, I could not have married her. For a short space she seemed to cast a spell over me; but I soon recovered from it, and found that you alone are mistress of my heart, and that I could not live without you. But I had lost you – I had forfeited your regard, and could never hope to regain it.”

“You judged correctly,” said Mildred. But her looks rather belied her words.

“Though justly punished, I was resolved not to unite myself to a woman I cannot love, and who, I believe, is equally indifferent to me. A pretext for breaking off the engagement was easily found – nay, presented itself. Certain she would refuse, I required a handsome settlement to be made upon me. Her answer, as I anticipated, set me free; and now, dearest Mildred,” he added, venturing to take her hand which she did not withdraw, “you have heard my explanation, can you forgive me?”

“You do not deserve forgiveness!” she replied in a voice that showed she relented.

“I know it,” he said, raising her hand to his lips. “But I feel that I am forgiven.”

Further discourse was interrupted by the entrance of Lady Thicknesse and Emmeline, both of whom had witnessed the tender incident just described, and understood that a reconciliation had taken place, but neither made a remark.

“I’ve an agreeable surprise for you,” said Lady Thicknesse. “Who do you think is coming to me tomorrow? You’ll never guess; so I may as well tell you – Mrs. Calverley.”

Exclamations of surprise rose from all; but no one seemed particularly pleased.

“I was not aware you knew her, aunt,” remarked Captain Danvers, who did not care to conceal his vexation.

“I have never seen her,” replied Lady Thicknesse. “But I wrote to say I should be delighted to make her acquaintance, and hoped she might be induced to spend a week with me while Mildred and Emmeline are in town. She has just answered that she accepts my invitation with the greatest pleasure, and I may expect her to-morrow. She will make a delightful addition to our little party.”

“I am not so sure of that,” muttered Captain Danvers.

“What put it into your head to ask her, dear aunt?” said Emmeline.

“A conversation I had with Scrope. He extolled her so much, that I longed to see her.”

“I wish he had held his tongue,” mentally ejaculated the captain.

Just then Higgins and a footman brought in breakfast, and an end was put to the conversation.

Later on, when she had an opportunity of saying a word to Lady Thicknesse privately, Emmeline observed:

“I think, aunt, you’ll regret asking Mrs. Calverley. Though very handsome, very clever, and very agreeable, she’s extremely mischievous. Everybody has been trying to get out of her way, and now we shall have her in our midst again. I shall be very much surprised if she doesn’t cause some unpleasantness.”

“Don’t be afraid of that, my dear,” said Lady Thicknesse, laughing. “I expect she’ll be very useful.”

“Useful in what way, aunt?”

“I can’t explain, but such is my opinion.”

“I advise you to take care of her, aunt. Depend upon it, she’s a very designing woman.”

X. MRS. CALVERLEY MAKES AN IMPORTANT CONQUEST

Next day, Mrs. Calverley arrived in plenty of time for dinner.

She looked extremely well, and produced a most favourable impression upon Lady Thicknesse, who thought her one of the handsomest and best bred woman she had ever seen, and would not believe a word that had been said against her.

The meeting with Mildred was not very cordial; but Mrs. Calverley, who was a most accomplished actress, contrived to make it appear that there was no want of affection on her part, and completely imposed upon Lady Thicknesse.

With Emmeline it was the same thing. Whatever feelings she secretly entertained for that young lady, she professed the greatest regard for her.

Nor did she exhibit any coldness or resentment towards Captain Danvers, of whose conduct she had just reason to complain. No one could have guessed that they had recently quarrelled.

In short, Lady Thicknesse could see nothing in her but what was charming, and congratulated herself upon having invited her.

A splendid chamber was assigned her, with an adjoining room for her lady’s-maid, Laura.

As usual, there was a small dinner-party on that day, consisting of Lord Courland, Sir Bridgnorth Charlton, Scrope, Captain Danvers, and Chetwynd.

Mrs. Calverley had a little talk with Chetwynd in the drawing-room, and they appeared on the most friendly terms; but their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Lord Courland, who was presented to the beautiful widow, and claimed her attention.

Evidently the young lord was very much struck with her, and, seeing the effect she had produced, she exerted herself to the utmost, and before the end of the evening had completely enthralled her new admirer.

To Scrope, who knew his friend well, it seemed almost certain Mrs. Calverley would eclipse Emmeline. Hitherto, as we have shown, Lord Courland had divided his attentions between the two girls; but on this occasion he was engrossed by the fascinating widow, and had eyes for no one else.

Sir Bridgnorth came to the same conclusion as Scrope; and as he had taken Mrs. Calverley down to dinner, and found himself rather de trop, he was able to judge.

Even Lady Thicknesse began to see the error she had committed in introducing so dangerous a rival. Mrs. Calverley was far more to be feared than Mildred, and might carry off the prize.

However, the beautiful widow acted with great discretion. Apparently, she attached no importance to the conquest she had made. When rallied on the subject next morning by Lady Thicknesse, she owned that she had flirted a little with Lord Courland, but had not for a moment regarded his attentions seriously.

“I am glad to hear you say so,” replied her ladyship. “Had it been otherwise, you would have run counter to a plan of mine. To tell you the truth, I rather wish to bring about a match between his lordship and Emmeline.”

“Nothing could be better!” said Mrs. Calverley. “I wouldn’t interfere with it for the world. But I fear there is a little difficulty that you may not be aware of. I suspect Emmeline has an attachment.”

“The same notion has occurred to me; but I have never questioned her, and she has said nothing to me. To whom do you suppose she is attached? – to Chetwynd?”

“No; it is only surmise on my part. But still I think I am right.”

“If she won’t accept Lord Courland, it will be monstrously provoking after all my trouble. He has met her every day for nearly a fortnight, and the affair has not advanced a single step. She seems to like his society, but nothing more, and he appears just as much pleased with Mildred as he is with her.”

“Have you tried to bring him to the point? Have you spoken to him?”

“No; my nephew, Scrope Danvers, is strangely averse to such a course.”

“He is wrong. Pardon me if I say you ought to come to an immediate understanding.”

“But Scrope advises me to proceed very cautiously.”

“There may be excess of caution as well as too little. Something must be done. I will speak to his lordship if you like.”

“I shall feel immensely obliged if you will. I should like to place the affair in your hands. I am confident you will manage it better than I can.”

“I shall be able to put questions to him that your ladyship could not. Is he coming here to-day, may I ask?”

“I am not quite sure. But he will dine here tomorrow.”

XI. LADY THICKNESSE CONSULTS SIR BRIDGNORTH

|Lord Courland did not call on that morning; but Scrope did, and had a private conference with Lady Thicknesse in her boudoir

He looked very grave as he addressed her.

“Your matrimonial scheme is at an end, my dear aunt,” he said. “Courland has fallen desperately in love with Mrs. Calverley.”

Her ladyship uttered a cry of astonishment.

“He declares she is the most charming woman he ever met. I feel certain he will propose to her. Now what is to be done?”

“It seems embarrassing, certainly. But you need have no uneasiness. I have just been talking to her. He won’t be accepted.”

“Don’t delude yourself, my dear aunt,” he cried. “Mrs. Calverley would like very much to be Lady Courland, I feel quite sure. She may tell you otherwise. But it is so. She is an ambitious woman.”

“What is to be done?” exclaimed Lady Thicknesse, in consternation.

“We must gain time. I have prevented him from calling here to-day.”

“How did you manage that?”

“By telling him I wanted to ask Charles a few questions. Meantime, you must speak to Emmeline.”

“But I very much fear she won’t mind me,” said Lady Thicknesse. “I’ll get Sir Bridgnorth to do it.”

“He’s the very man for the purpose; and, fortunately, he’s in the house. I left him just now with the ladies.”

“Then beg him to come to me,” said Lady Thicknesse.

Scrope needed no second bidding, but immediately quitted the boudoir, and reappeared a few minutes afterwards with the good-natured baronet.

“I won’t interrupt the tête-à-tête which her ladyship wishes to have with you, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Scrope as he left them together.

“Pray be seated, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Lady Thicknesse. “I want your advice and assistance.”

“Both are at your ladyship’s service,” he replied.

“I expected nothing less from you. You are a real friend. It is a very delicate matter on which I desire to consult you.”

And she paused.

“Does it relate to a matrimonial alliance between Lord Courland and your niece, Miss Barfleur?”

“You have guessed right,” replied Lady Thicknesse. “You can assist me most materially in the affair, if you will. Emmeline, I know, has a very great regard, I may almost say affection, for you, and might possibly speak more freely to you than she would to me. Will you ascertain what her sentiments are respecting Lord Courland?”

“I can give your ladyship the information you desire at once,” replied Sir Bridgnorth, “and shall really be glad to do so. Indeed, I have thought of speaking to you on the subject, but feared you might deem me impertinent. Any expectations your ladyship may have formed of such an alliance must be dismissed. It will never take place.”

“You think so, Sir Bridgnorth?” said her ladyship, looking dreadfully chagrined.

“I am quite sure of it,” he replied. “Miss Barfleur will never accept him.”

“You would not make this assertion so positively without good reason, I am certain, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Lady Thicknesse.

“I had the declaration from Miss Barfleur’s own lips,” he replied, “and was requested to repeat it to your ladyship. I am also permitted to mention a circumstance that will prevent any discussion on the subject.”

“You are not about to tell me she is engaged, I hope, Sir Bridgnorth?” said her ladyship, manifesting fresh alarm.

“Such is the fact,” he replied, quietly. “It is desirable you should know the truth.”

“It is proper I should know the whole truth, Sir Bridgnorth,” she rejoined. “To whom is my niece engaged? Speak frankly.”

“To Chetwynd Calverley,” he replied without hesitation.

Lady Thicknesse did not seem much surprised, for she expected the answer; but she said, in a haughty, decided tone:

“That union can never take place!”

A slight smile played on Sir Bridgnorth’s kindly countenance.

“I do not see how it can be prevented,” he said. “She is an heiress, and Lady Barfleur’s consent has been obtained.”

Lady Thicknesse looked thunderstruck, and remained silent for a few moments, and then said:

“Why have I been kept in ignorance of this engagement? I suppose Emmeline felt I should disapprove of it, as I do most decidedly!”

“I certainly think the matter ought to have been communicated to your ladyship,” said Sir Bridgnorth. “But since the marriage, in all probability, will not take place for some time, I suppose it was not deemed necessary to mention it at present.”

“That explanation does not satisfy me, Sir Bridgnorth! I feel highly offended. I suppose Mrs. Calverley has been in the dark as well as myself?”

“She has,” replied Sir Bridgnorth. “And in her case, I think the caution was judicious. She is not to be trusted with any secrets but her own, and those she can keep. I shouldn’t wonder if she wins the prize that has been offered to Miss Barfleur.”

“It seems likely,” said her ladyship. “There is one consolatory circumstance in this disagreeable affair; the marriage will not take place for some time. I trust it may be indefinitely postponed!”

Thinking the interview had lasted long, Sir Bridgnorth arose; but her ladyship would not let him depart thus, and said:

“Pray come and dine with me as usual. I shall expect you at eight. By that time, I hope I shall have got over my vexation. Don’t imagine I shall make a scene! I never do make scenes. I shall say nothing to Emmeline till to-morrow. Au revoir!”

And she extended her hand to him.

As Sir Bridgnorth took the delicately white fingers, he felt inclined to raise them to his lips; but he didn’t, and withdrew.