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<h3>CHAPTER V. After the Ball</h3>
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<br/>"It's weary work," said Sir Felix as he got into the brougham with
his mother and sister.
<br/>"What must it have been to me then, who had nothing to do?" said
his mother.
<br/>"It's the having something to do that makes me call it weary
work. By-the-bye, now I think of it, I'll run down to the club
before I go home." So saying he put his head out of the
brougham, and stopped the driver.
<br/>"It is two o'clock, Felix," said his mother.
<br/>"I'm afraid it is, but you see I'm hungry. You had supper,
perhaps; I had none."
<br/>"Are you going down to the club for supper at this time in the
morning?"
<br/>"I must go to bed hungry if I don't. Good night." Then
he jumped out of the brougham, called a cab, and had himself driven
to the Beargarden. He declared to himself that the men there
would think it mean of him if he did not give them their
revenge. He had renewed his play on the preceding night, and
had again won. Dolly Longestaffe owed him now a considerable
sum of money, and Lord Grasslough was also in his debt. He was
sure that Grasslough would go to the club after the ball, and he was
determined that they should not think that he had submitted to be
carried home by his mother and sister. So he argued with
himself; but in truth the devil of gambling was hot within his bosom;
and though he feared that in losing he might lose real money, and
that if he won it would be long before he was paid, yet he could not
keep himself from the card-table.
<br/>Neither mother or daughter said a word till they reached home and
had got upstairs. Then the elder spoke of the trouble that was
nearest to her heart at the moment. "Do you think he gambles?"
<br/>"He has got no money, mamma."
<br/>"I fear that might not hinder him. And he has money with
him, though, for him and such friends as he has, it is not
much. If he gambles everything is lost."
<br/>"I suppose they all do play more or less."
<br/>"I have not known that he played. I am wearied too, out of
all heart, by his want of consideration to me. It is not that
he will not obey me. A mother perhaps should not expect
obedience from a grown-up son. But my word is nothing to
him. He has no respect for me. He would as soon do what
is wrong before me as before the merest stranger."
<br/>"He has been so long his own master, mamma."
<br/>"Yes,—his own master! And yet I must provide for him as
though he were but a child. Hetta, you spent the whole evening
talking to Paul Montague."
<br/>"No, mamma that is unjust."
<br/>"He was always with you."
<br/>"I knew nobody else. I could not tell him not to speak to
me. I danced with him twice." Her mother was seated, with
both her hands up to her forehead, and shook her head. "If you
did not want me to speak to Paul you should not have taken me there."
<br/>"I don't wish to prevent your speaking to him. You know what
I want." Henrietta came up and kissed her, and bade her good
night. "I think I am the unhappiest woman in all London," she
said, sobbing hysterically.
<br/>"Is it my fault, mamma?"
<br/>"You could save me from much if you would. I work like a
horse, and I never spend a shilling that I can help. I want
nothing for myself,—nothing for myself. Nobody has suffered as
I have. But Felix never thinks of me for a moment."
<br/>"I think of you, mamma."
<br/>"If you did you would accept your cousin's offer. What right
have you to refuse him? I believe it is all because of that
young man."
<br/>"No, mamma; it is not because of that young man. I like my
cousin very much;—but that is all. Good night, mamma."
Lady Carbury just allowed herself to be kissed, and then was left
alone.
<br/>At eight o'clock the next morning daybreak found four young men
who had just risen from a card-table at the Beargarden. The
Beargarden was so pleasant a club that there was no rule whatsoever
as to its being closed,—the only law being that it should not be
opened before three in the afternoon. A sort of sanction had,
however, been given to the servants to demur to producing supper or
drinks after six in the morning, so that, about eight, unrelieved
tobacco began to be too heavy even for juvenile constitutions.
The party consisted of Dolly Longestaffe, Lord Grasslough, Miles
Grendall, and Felix Carbury, and the four had amused themselves
during the last six hours with various innocent games. They had
commenced with whist, and had culminated during the last half-hour
with blind hookey. But during the whole night Felix had
won. Miles Grendall hated him, and there had been an expressed
opinion between Miles and the young lord that it would be both
profitable and proper to relieve Sir Felix of the winnings of the
last two nights. The two men had played with the same object,
and being young had shown their intention,—so that a certain feeling
of hostility had been engendered. The reader is not to
understand that either of them had cheated, or that the baronet had
entertained any suspicion of foul play. But Felix had felt that
Grendall and Grasslough were his enemies, and had thrown himself on
Dolly for sympathy and friendship. Dolly, however, was very
tipsy.
<br/>At eight o'clock in the morning there came a sort of settling,
though no money then passed. The ready-money transactions had
not lasted long through the night. Grasslough was the chief
loser, and the figures and scraps of paper which had been passed over
to Carbury, when counted up, amounted to nearly £2,000. His
lordship contested the fact bitterly, but contested it in vain.
There were his own initials and his own figures, and even Miles
Grendall, who was supposed to be quite wide awake, could not reduce
the amount. Then Grendall had lost over £400 to Carbury,—an
amount, indeed, that mattered little, as Miles could, at present, as
easily have raised £40,000. However, he gave his I.O.U. to his
opponent with an easy air. Grasslough, also, was impecunious;
but he had a father,—also impecunious, indeed; but with them the
matter would not be hopeless. Dolly Longestaffe was so tipsy
that he could not even assist in making up his own account.
That was to be left between him and Carbury for some future occasion.
<br/>"I suppose you'll be here to-morrow,—that is to-night," said Miles.
"Certainly,—only one thing," answered Felix.
<br/>"What one thing?"
<br/>"I think these things should be squared before we play any more!"
<br/>"What do you mean by that?" said Grasslough angrily. "Do you
mean to hint anything?"
<br/>"I never hint anything, my Grassy," said Felix. "I believe
when people play cards, it's intended to be ready-money, that's
all. But I'm not going to stand on P's and Q's with you.
I'll give you your revenge to-night."
<br/>"That's all right," said Miles.
<br/>"I was speaking to Lord Grasslough," said Felix. "He is an
old friend, and we know each other. You have been rather rough
to-night, Mr Grendall."
<br/>"Rough;—what the devil do you mean by that?"
<br/>"And I think it will be as well that our account should be settled
before we begin again."
<br/>"A settlement once a week is the kind of thing I'm used to," said
Grendall.
<br/>There was nothing more said; but the young men did not part on
good terms. Felix, as he got himself taken home, calculated
that if he could realize his spoil, he might begin the campaign again
with horses, servants, and all luxuries as before. If all were
paid, he would have over £3,000!
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