Silverbridge had now a week on his hands which he felt he might devote to the lady of his love. It was a comfort to him that he need having nothing to do with the address. To have to go, day after day, to the Treasury in order that he might learn his lesson, would have been disagreeable to him. He did not quite know how the lesson would have been communicated, but fancied it would have come from 'Old Roby', whom he did not love much better than Sir Timothy. Then the speech must have been composed, and afterwards submitted to someone,--probably to old Roby again, by whom no doubt it would be cut and slashed, and made quite a different speech than he had intended. If he had not praised Sir Timothy himself, Roby,--or whatever other tutor might have been assigned to him,--would have put the praise in. And then how many hours it would have taken to learn 'the horrid thing' by heart. He proudly felt that he had not been prompted by idleness to decline the task; but not the less was he glad to have shuffled the burden from off his shoulders.
Early the next morning he was in Brook Street, having sent a note to say he would call, and having named the hour. And yet when he knocked at the door, he was told with the utmost indifference by a London footman, that Miss Boncassen was not at home,--also that Mrs Boncassen was not at home,--also that Mr Boncassen was not at home.
When he asked at what hour Miss Boncassen was expected home, the man answered him, just as though he had been anyone else, that he knew nothing about it. He turned away in disgust, and had himself driven to the Beargarden. In his misery he had recourse to game-pie and a pint of champagne for his lunch. 'Halloa, old fellow, what is this I hear about you?' said Nidderdale, coming in, and sitting opposite to him.
'I don't know what you have heard.'
'You are going to second the address. What made them pick you out from the lot of us?'
'It is just what I am not going to do.'
'I saw it all in the papers.'
'I daresay;--and yet it isn't true. I shouldn't wonder if they ask you.'
At this moment a waiter handed a large official letter to Lord Nidderdable, saying that the messenger who had brought it was waiting for an answer in the hall. The letter bore the important signature of T. Beeswax on the corner of the envelope, and so disturbed Lord Nidderdale that he called at once for a glass of soda-and-brandy. When opened it was found to be very nearly a counterpart of that which Silverbridge had received down in the country. There was, however, added a little prayer that Lord Nidderdale would at once come down to the Treasury Chambers.
'They must be very hard up,' said Lord Nidderdale. 'But I shall do it. Cantrip is always at me to do something, and you see if I don't butter them up properly.' Then having fortified himself with game-pie and a glass of brown sherry he went away at once to the Treasury Chambers.
Silverbridge felt himself a little better after his lunch,--better still when he had smoked a couple of cigarettes walking about the empty smoking-room. And as he walked he collected his thoughts.
She could hardly have meant to slight him. No doubt her letter down to him at Harrington had been very cold. No doubt he had been ill-treated in being sent away so unceremoniously from the door.
But yet she could hardly intend that everything between them should be over. Even an American girl could not be so unreasonable as that. He remembered the passionate way in which she had assured him of her love. All that could not have been forgotten! He had done nothing by which he could have forfeited her esteem. She had desired him to tell the whole affair to her father, and he had done so. Mr Boncassen might perhaps objected. It might be that this American was so prejudiced against the English aristocrats as to desire no commerce with them. There were not many Englishmen who would not have welcomed him as a son-in-law, but Americans might be different. Still,--still Isabel would hardly have shown her obedience to her father in this way. She was too independent to obey her father in a matter concerning her own heart. And if he had not been the possessor of her heart at that last interview, then she must have been false indeed! So he got once more into his hansom and had himself taken back to Brook Street.
Mrs Boncassen was in the drawing-room alone.
'I am so sorry,' said the lady,' but Mr Boncassen has, I think, just gone out.'
'Indeed! and where is Isabel?'
'Isabel is downstairs,--that is if she hasn't gone out too. She did talk of going with her father to the Museum. She is getting quite bookish. She has got a ticket, and goes there, and has all the things brought to her just like the other learned folk.'
'I am anxious to see her, Mrs Boncassen.'
'My! If she has gone out it will be a pity. She was only saying yesterday she wouldn't wonder if you shouldn't turn up.'
'Of course I've turned up, Mrs Boncassen. I was here an hour ago.'
'Was it you who called and asked all them questions? My! We couldn't make out who it was. The man said it was a flurried young gentleman who wouldn't leave a card,--but who wanted to see Mr Boncassen most special.'
'It was Isabel I wanted to see. Didn't I leave a card? No; I don't think I did. I felt so--almost at home, that I didn't think of a card.'
'That's very kind of you, Lord Silverbridge.'
'I hope you are going to be my friend, Mrs Boncassen.'
'I am sure I don't know, Lord Silverbridge. Isabel is most used to having her own way I guess. I think when hearts are joined almost nothing ought to stand between them. But Mr Boncassen does have doubts. He don't wish Isabel should force herself anywhere. But here she is, and now she can speak for herself.' Whereupon not only did Isabel enter the room, but at the same time Mrs Boncassen most discreetly left it. It must be confessed that American mothers are not afraid of their daughters.'