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Hilary Maltby and Stephen Braxton
by
`For shame! thought I. Was I nobody? Was the author of “Ariel in Mayfair” nobody?
`I reminded myself how glad Braxton would be if he knew of my faint- heartedness. I thought of Braxton sitting, at this moment, in his room in Clifford’s Inn and glowering with envy of his hated rival in the 3.30. And after all, how enviable I was! My spirits rose. I would acquit myself well….
`I much admired the scene at the little railway station where we alighted. It was like a fete by Lancret. I knew from the talk of my fellow-passengers that some people had been going down by an earlier train, and that others were coming by a later. But the 3.30 had brought a full score of us. Us! That was the final touch of beauty.
`Outside there were two broughams, a landau, dog-carts, a phaeton, a wagonette, I know not what. But almost everybody, it seemed, was going to bicycle. Lady Rodfitten said SHE was going to bicycle. Year after year, I had seen that famous Countess riding or driving in the Park. I had been told at fourth hand that she had a masculine intellect and could make and unmake Ministries. She was nearly sixty now, a trifle dyed and stout and weather-beaten, but still tremendously handsome, and hard as nails. One would not have said she had grown older, but merely that she belonged now to a rather later period of the Roman Empire. I had never dreamed of a time when one roof would shelter Lady Rodfitten and me. Somehow, she struck my imagination more than any of these others–more than Count Deym, more than Mr. Balfour, more than the lovely Lady Thisbe Crowborough.
`I might have had a ducal vehicle all to myself, and should have liked that; but it seemed more correct that I should use my bicycle. On the other hand, I didn’t want to ride with all these people–a stranger in their midst. I lingered around the luggage till they were off, and then followed at a long distance.
`The sun had gone behind clouds. But I rode slowly, so as to be sure not to arrive hot. I passed, not without a thrill, through the massive open gates into the Duke’s park. A massive man with a cockade saluted me–hearteningly–from the door of the lodge. The park seemed endless. I came, at length, to a long straight avenue of elms that were almost blatantly immemorial. At the end of it was–well, I felt like a gnat going to stay in a public building.
`If there had been turnstiles–IN and OUT–and a shilling to pay, I should have felt easier as I passed into that hall–that Palladio- Gargantuan hall. Some one, some butler or groom-of-the-chamber, murmured that her Grace was in the garden. I passed out through the great opposite doorway on to a wide spectacular terrace with lawns beyond. Tea was on the nearest of these lawns. In the central group of people–some standing, others sitting–I espied the Duchess. She sat pouring out tea, a deft and animated little figure. I advanced firmly down the steps from the terrace, feeling that all would be well so soon as I had reported myself to the Duchess.
`But I had a staggering surprise on my way to her. I espied in one of the smaller groups–whom d’you think? Braxton.
`I had no time to wonder how he had got there–time merely to grasp the black fact that he WAS there.
`The Duchess seemed really pleased to see me. She said it was TOO splendid of me to come. “You know Mr. Maltby?” she asked Lady Rodfitten, who exclaimed “Not Mr. HILARY Maltby?” with a vigorous grace that was overwhelming. Lady Rodfitten declared she was the greatest of my admirers; and I could well believe that in whatever she did she excelled all competitors. On the other hand, I found it hard to believe she was afraid of me. Yet I had her word for it that she was.