iresses in
reason a gentleman need neither shrink nor let himself be driven; but
when it comes to something like twenty thousand a year--the reported
amount of Trix's dot--he distrusts his own motives almost as much as
the lady's relatives distrust them for him. We all felt this--Stanton,
Rippleby, and I; and, although I will not swear that we spoke no tender
words and gave no meaning glances, yet we reduced such concessions to
natural weakness to a minimum, not only when Lady Queenborough was by,
but at all times. To say truth, we had no desire to see our scalps
affixed to Miss Trix's pretty belt, nor to have our hearts broken (like
that of the young man in the poem) before she went to Homburg in the
autumn. With the curate it was otherwise. He--Jack Ives, by the way,
was his name--appeared to rush, not only upon his fate, but in the face
of all possibility and of Lady Queenborough. My cousin and hostess,
Dora Polton, was very much distressed about him. She said that he was
such a nice young fellow, and that it was a great pity to see him
preparing such unhappiness for himself. Nay, I happen to know that she
spoke very seriously to Trix, pointing out the wickedness of trifling
with him; whereupon Trix, who maintained a bowing acquaintance with her
conscience, avoided him for a whole afternoon and endangered all Algy
Stanton's prudent resolutions by taking him out in the Canadian canoe.
This demonstration in no way perturbed the curate. He observed that, as
there was nothing better to do, we might as well play billiards, and
proceeded to defeat me in three games of a hundred up (no, it is quite
immaterial whether we played for anything or not), after which he told
Dora that the vicar was taking the evening service--it happened to be
the day when there was one at the parish church--a piece of information
only relevant in so far as it suggested that Mr. Ives could accept an
invitation to dinner if one were proffered to him. Dora, very weakly,
rose to the bait; Jack Ives, airily remarking that there was no use in
ceremony among friends, seized the place next to Trix at dinner (her
mother was just opposite) and walked on the terrace after dinner with
her in the moonlight. When the ladies retired he came into the
smoking-room, drank a whiskey-and-soda, said that Miss Queenborough was
really a very charming companion, and apologized for leaving us early
on the ground that his sermon was still unwritten. My good cousin, the
s