The Master of the Ceremonies

“Well, Denville,” said Lord Carboro’, “I wanted to see you.”

“In what way can I serve your lordship?” said the MC, with his best bow.

“A pinch of your snuff.”

The pinch was taken, and the box snapped and returned.

“Your arm.”

Denville’s breast swelled as he offered his arm to the elderly beau, and a flush of hope rose into his cheeks. The sun must be coming out at last.

It was a pleasant thing to be seen walking along the Parade in so familiar a way with Lord Carboro’, and to his great delight Denville saw that the Parade was well filled.

He expected that this would be only a temporary condescension from the wealthy old nobleman; but Lord Carboro’ held on tightly, made a few very nasty remarks about some of the people they passed, and then said suddenly:

“Drelincourt has been asking me to interest myself with the Prince to get your boy a commission.”

“Indeed, my lord?”

“Yes, indeed. ’Nother pinch of snuff.”

The box —sniff – snuff – snap.

“Like to know what I said to her?”

“My lord, I am a father.”

“Yes, Denville, I know it. Well.”

The old man changed the conversation to make another remark or two about some visitors, and then said, suddenly returning to the subject:

“Drelincourt asked me to get the lad a commission.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You don’t think of letting that old harpy claw up the boy?”

“Oh, my lord!”

“Of course, it would be madness. I told her I’d see her ladyship made a mummy first.”

The MC’s heart sank.

“She means to marry fat Matt Bray. I hope she will. I said I’d see her ladyship made a mummy first, Denville; and – he, he, he! she showed real colour. It came up in her cheeks, all round the rouge. Poor old girl! she is as bad as her sister was: hates to hear about dying. Doosid awkward thing, old Teigne being killed in your house. I wonder who got her diamonds.”

Denville’s hands began to tremble, and the beads of perspiration to stand upon his forehead.

“Must all die some day, I suppose. Great nuisance to think about if the weather’s fine, Denville; but when it’s a cold, easterly wind, or one’s gout’s bad, I often feel as if I shouldn’t mind being tucked up comfortably. How do you feel about it, Denville? You’re not a chicken.”

“My lord, I feel sometimes as if, once I could see my boy settled, and my daughter well married, it would be a relief to lie down and take the long sleep,” said the MC solemnly.

“Denville,” said Lord Carboro’, after a pause, during which he held on tightly to his companion’s arm. “I’ve gone on for years calling you an artificial old humbug, with your deportment and niminy-piminy ways. I hadn’t the common sense to see that they were like my wig and stock, sir – put on. I beg your pardon, Denville. I do, sir: I beg your pardon. You’ve the right stuff in you after all, and, sir – I’m very proud to tell you that what I wouldn’t do for that old harpy, Drelincourt, I would do on my own account.”

“My lord!”

“Yes, sir; asked His Royal Highness, myself, and he said nothing would give him greater pleasure. Denville, your son has a commission in the Light Dragoons.”

“My lord, I – I – ”

“Don’t, don’t, Denville,” said the old man, pressing his arm. “Hold up man, or some of these idiots will be seeing that you are moved. Take a pinch of snuff, man – of mine, and let’s walk out upon the Downs, out here beyond the fishermen’s cottages, and my sight isn’t what it was, or I should have said that was Miss Claire going into yon fisherman’s hut.”

“Impossible, my lord. Will you allow me to express my – ”

“No, no, no. Not a word, Denville. Why, man, you are husky with emotion now, real emotion. Don’t say another word about it. Only make the boy do us justice.”

“He shall, my lord,” said the MC in a broken voice.

“And now, look here, Denville; I’m about one of the most selfish old fellows that ever breathed, and I want to see if I can’t have a little recompense for all my miseries and disappointments.”

“Yours, my lord?”

“Yes, sir, mine,” said the old beau. “Do you think because I’m rich I’m happy? Not a bit of it. I haven’t long to live though now, and I want to make the best of the time left.”

“My lord!”

“Hold your tongue and listen. I heard all about Rockley meeting Miss Claire and young Linnell thrashing him.”

“It was a most unfortunate affair, my lord.”

“I don’t know that either. Pity young Linnell couldn’t shoot and pop off that scoundrel Rockley. By the way, he looked daggers at me for getting your boy appointed to his regiment; but the boy shan’t disgrace the corps, if I find him money myself.”

Denville paused where they stood upon the Downs and gazed wonderingly at the old Earl.

“I make you stare, Denville. Well, I’ll be frank with you, and you shall be frank with me.”

The MC bowed and wiped his streaming face.

“Of course she does not care for Rockley.”

“Good heavens, my lord; no!”

“Nor for young Linnell?”

The MC hemmed twice before he spoke.

“I, too, will be frank with you, my lord,” he said. “It was in dead opposition to my wishes, but I’m afraid there was something between my daughter and Mr Richard Linnell.”

Lord Carboro’ looked at the speaker searchingly.