第217章

By the end of March Isabel was in Paris, whither she had forbidden her lover to follow her. Silverbridge was therefore reduced to the shifts of a bachelor's life, in which his friends seemed to think that he ought now to take special delight. Perhaps he did not take much delight in them. He was no doubt impatient to commence that steady married life for which he had prepared himself. But nevertheless, just at present, he lived a good deal at the Beargarden. Where was he to live? The Boncassens were in Paris, his sister was at Matching with a houseful of other Pallisers, and his father was again deep in politics.

Of course he was much in the House of Commons, but that also was stupid. Indeed everything would be stupid till Isabel came back.

Perhaps dinner was more comfortable at the club than at the House.

And then, as everybody knew, it was a good thing to change the scene. Therefore he dined at the club, and though he would keep his hansom and do down to the House again in the course of the evening, he spent many long hours at the Beargarden. 'There'll very soon be an end of this as far as you are concerned,' said Mr Lupton to him one evening as they were sitting in the smoking-room after dinner.

'The sooner the better as far as this place is concerned.'

'This place is as good as any other. For the matter of that I like the Beargarden since we got rid of two or three not very charming characters.'

'You mean my poor friend Tifto,' said Silverbridge.

'No;--I was not thinking of Tifto. There were one or two here who were quite as bad as Tifto. I wonder what has become of that poor devil?'

'I don't know in the least. You heard of that row about the hounds?'

'And his letter to you.'

'He wrote to me,--and I answered him, as you know. But whither he vanished or what he is doing, or how he is living, I have not the least idea.'

'Gone to join those other fellows abroad I should say. Among them they got a lot of money,--as the Duke ought to remember.'

'He is not with them,' said Silverbridge, as though he were in some degree mourning over the fate of his unfortunate friend.

'I suppose Captain Green was the leader in all that.'

'Now it is all done and gone I own to a certain regard for the Major. He was true to me till he thought I snubbed him. I would not let him go down to Silverbridge with me. I always thought that I drove the poor Major to his malpractice.'

At this moment Dolly Longstaff sauntered into the room and came up to them. It may be remembered that Dolly had declared his purpose of emigrating. As soon as he heard that the Duke's heir had serious thoughts of marrying the lady whom he loved he withdrew at once from the contest, but, as he did so, he acknowledged that there could be no longer a home for him in the country which Isabel was to inhabit as the wife of another man. Gradually, however, better thoughts returned to him. After all, what was she but a 'pert poppet'? He determined that marriage 'clips a fellow's wings confoundedly', and so he set himself to enjoy life after his old fashion. There was perhaps a little swagger as he threw himself into a chair and addressed the happy lover. 'I'll be shot if I didn't meet Tifto at the corner of the street.'

'Tifto!'

'Yes, Tifto. He looked awfully seedy, with a greatcoat buttoned up to his chin, a shabby hat and gloves.'

'Did he speak to you?' asked Silverbridge.

'No;--nor I to him. He hadn't time to think whether he would speak or not, and you may be sure I didn't.'

Nothing further was said about the man, but Silverbridge was uneasy and silent. When his cigar was finished he got up saying that he should go back to the House. As he left the club he looked about him as though expecting to see his old friend, and when he had passed through the first street and had got into the Haymarket there he was! The Major came up to him, touched his hat, asked to be allowed to say a few words. 'I don't think it can do any good,' said Silverbridge. The man had not attempted to shake hands with him, or affected familiarity; but seemed to be thoroughly humiliated. 'I don't think I can be of any service to you, and therefore I had rather decline.'

'I don't want you to be of any service, my Lord.'

'Then what's the good?'

'I have something to say. May I come to you tomorrow?'

Then Silverbridge allowed himself to make an appointment, and an hour was named at which Tifto might call into Carlton Terrace. He felt that he almost owed some reparation to the wretched man,--whom he had unfortunately admitted among his friends, whom he had used, and to whom he had been uncourteous. Exactly at the hour named the Major was shown into the room.

Dolly had said that he was shabby,--but the man was altered rather than shabby. He still had rings on his fingers and studs in his shirt, and a jewelled pin in his cravat,--but he had shaven off his moustache and the tuft from his chin, and his hair had been cut short, and in spite of his jewellery there was a hang-dog look about him. 'I've got something that I particularly want to say to you, my Lord.' Silverbridge would not shake hands with him, but could not refrain from offering him a chair.

'Well;--you can say it now.'

'Yes;--but it isn't so very easy to be said. There are some things, though you want to say them ever, so you don't quite know how to do it.'

'You have your choice, Major Tifto. You can speak or hold your tongue.'