During the horrid period of suspense that followed her visit to Sir Justin, the Baroness von Blitzenberg naturally enough felt disinclined to go much into society, and in fact rarely went out at all during the Baron's absence, except to the houses of one or two of her mother's particular friends. Even then she felt much more inclined to stay at home.
“Need we go to Mrs. Jerwin-Speedy's to-night?” she said one afternoon.
“Certainly,” replied the Countess decisively.
Alicia sighed submissively; but this attitude was abruptly changed into one of readiness, nay, even of alacrity, when her mother remarked—
“By the way, she is an aunt of the present Tulliwuddle. I believe it was you who were asking about him the other day.”
“Was I?” said the Baroness carelessly; but she offered no further objections to attending Mrs. Jerwin-Speedy's reception.
She found there a large number of people compressed into a couple of small rooms, and she soon felt so lost in the crush of strangers, and the chances of obtaining any information about Lord Tulliwuddle or his Eva seemed so remote, that she soon began to wish herself comfortably at home again, even though it were only to fret. But fortune, which had so long been unkind to her and indulgent to her erring spouse, chose that night as the turning-point in her tide of favors. Little dreaming how much hung on a mere introduction, Mrs. Jerwin-Speedy led up to the Baroness an apparently nervous and diffident young man.
“Let me introduce my nephew, Lord Tulliwuddle—the Baroness von Blitzenberg,” said she; and having innocently hurled this bomb, retired from further participation in the drama.
With young and diffident men Alicia had a pleasant instinct for conducting herself as smilingly as though they were the greatest wits about the town. The envious of her sex declared that it was because she scarcely recognized the difference; but be that as it may, it served her on this occasion in the most admirable stead. She detached the agitated peer from the thickest of the throng, propped him beside her against the wall, and by her kindness at length unloosed his tongue. Then it was she began to suspect that his nervous manner must surely be due to some peculiar circumstance rather than mere constitutional shyness. Made observant by her keen curiosity, she noticed at first a worried, almost hunted, look in his eyes and an extreme impatience of scrutiny by his fellow-guests; but as he gained confidence in her kindness and discretion these passed away, and he appeared simply a garrulous young man, with a tolerably good opinion of himself.
“Poor fellow! He is in trouble of some kind. Something to do with Eva, of course!” she said to her sympathetically.
The genuine Tulliwuddle had indeed some cause for perturbation. After keeping himself out of the way of all his friends and most of his acquaintances ever since the departure of his substitute, hearing nothing of what was happening at Hechnahoul, and living in daily dread of the ignominious exposure of their plot, he had stumbled by accident against his aunt, explained his prolonged absence from her house with the utmost difficulty, and found himself forced to appease her wounded feelings by appearing where he least wished to be seen—in a crowded London reception-room. No wonder the unfortunate young man seemed nervous and ill at ease.
As for Alicia, she was consumed with anxiety to know why he was here and not in Scotland, as Sir Justin had supposed; and, indeed, to learn a number of things. And now they were rapidly getting on sufficiently familiar terms for her to put a tactful question or two. Encouraged by her sympathy, he began to touch upon his own anxieties.
“A young man ought to get married, I suppose,” he remarked confidentially.
The Baroness smiled.
“That depends on whether he likes any one well enough to marry her, doesn't it?”
He sighed.
“Do you think—honestly now,” he said solemnly, “that one should marry for love or marry for money?”
“For love, certainly!”
“You really think so? You'd advise—er—advise a fellow to blow the prejudices of his friends, and that sort of thing?”
“I should have to know a little more about the case.”
He was evidently longing for a confidant.
“Suppose er—one girl was ripping, but—well—on the stage, for instance.”
“On the stage!” exclaimed the Baroness. “Yes, please go on. What about the other girl?”
“Suppose she had simply pots of money, but the fellow didn't know much more about her?”
“I certainly shouldn't marry a girl I didn't know a good deal about,” said the Baroness with conviction.
Lord Tulliwuddle seemed impressed with this opinion.
“That's just what I have begun to think,” said he, and gazed down at his pumps with a meditative air.
The Baroness thought the moment had come when she could effect a pretty little surprise.
“Which of them is called Eva?” she asked archly.
To her intense disappointment he merely stared.
“Don't you really know any girl called Eva?”
He shook his head.
“Can't think of any one.”
Suspicion, fear, bewilderment, made her reckless.
“Have you been in Scotland—at your castle, as I heard you were going?”
A mighty change came over the young man. He backed away from her, stammering hurriedly,
“No—yes—I—er—why do you ask me that?”
“Is there any other Lord Tulliwuddle?” she demanded breathlessly.
He gave her one wild look, and then without so much as a farewell had turned and elbowed his way out of the room.
“It's all up!” he said to himself. “There's no use trying to play that game any longer—Essington has muddled it somehow. Well, I'm free to do what I like now!”
In this state of mind he found himself in the street, hailed the first hansom, and drove headlong from the dangerous regions of Belgravia.
. . . . . .
Till the middle of the next day the Baroness still managed to keep her own counsel, though she was now so alarmed that she was twenty times on the point of telling everything to her mother. But the arrival of a note from Sir Justin ended her irresolution. It ran thus:
“MY DEAR ALICIA,—I have just learned for certain that Lord T. is at his place in Scotland. Singularly enough, he is described as apparently of foreign extraction, and I hear that he is accompanied by a friend of the name of Count Bunker. I am just setting out for the North myself, and trust that I may be able to elucidate the mystery. Yours very truly,
“JUSTIN WALLINGFORD.”
“Foreign extraction! Count Bunker!” gasped the Baroness; and without stopping to debate the matter again, she rushed into her mother's arms, and there sobbed out the strange story of her second letter and the two Lord Tulliwuddles.
It were difficult to say whether anger at her daughter's deceit, indignation with the treacherous Baron, or a stern pleasure in finding her worst prognostications in a fair way to being proved, was the uppermost emotion in Lady Grillyer's mind when she had listened to this relation. Certainly poor Alicia could not but think that sympathy for her troubles formed no ingredient in the mixture.
“To think of your concealing this from me for so long!” she cried: “and Sir Justin abetting you! I shall tell him very plainly what I think of him! But if my daughter sets an example in treachery, what can one expect of one's friends?”
“After all, mamma, it was my own and Rudolph's concern more than your's!” exclaimed Alicia, flaring up for an instant.
“Don't answer me, child!” thundered the Countess. “Fetch me a railway time-table, and say nothing that may add to your sin!”
“A time-table, mamma? What for?”
“I am going to Scotland,” pronounced the Countess.
“Then I shall go too!”
“Indeed you shall not. You will wait here till I have brought Rudolph back to you.”
The Baroness said nothing aloud, but within her wounded heart she thought bitterly,
“Mamma seems to forget that even worms will turn sometimes!”
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