Tony Butler. Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ rocket-train,” said Mrs. Trafford.

      “And that was Tony!” said he, with a faint sneer.

      “Yes, Mark, that was Tony; and if you want to disparage him, let it be to some other than Bella and myself; for he is an old playmate that we both esteem highly, and wish well to.”

      “I am not surprised at it,” said he, languidly. “I never saw a snob yet that could n’t find a woman to defend him; and this fellow, it would seem, has got two.”

      “Tony a snob!”

      “Tony Butler a snob! Just the very thing he is not. Poor boy, there never was one to whom the charge was less applicable.”

      “Don’t be angry, Alice, because I don’t admire your rustic friend. In my ignorance I fancied he was a pretentious sort of bumpkin, who talked of things a little out of his reach, – such as yachting, – steeple-chasing, and the like. Is n’t he the son of some poor dependant of the governor’s?”

      “Nothing of the kind; his mother is a widow, with very narrow means, I believe; but his father was a colonel, and a distinguished one. As to dependence, there is no such relation between us.”

      “I am glad of that, for I rather set him down last night”

      “Set him down! What do you mean?”

      “He was talking somewhat big of ‘cross-country riding, and I asked him about his stable, and if his cattle ran more on bone than blood.”

      “Oh, Mark, you did not do that?” cried Bella, anxiously.

      “Yes; and when I saw his confusion, I said, ‘You must let me walk over some morning, and have a look at your nags; for I know from the way you speak of horseflesh I shall see something spicy.’”

      “And what answer did he make?” asked Bella, with an eager look.

      “He got very red, crimson, indeed, and stammered out, ‘You may spare yourself the walk, sir; for the only quadruped I have is a spaniel, and she is blind from age, and stupid.’”

      “Who was the snob there, Mark?” said Mrs. Trafford, angrily.

      “Alice!” said he, raising his eyebrows, and looking at her with a cold astonishment.

      “I beg pardon in all humility, Mark,” said she, hastily. “I am very sorry to have offended you; but I forgot myself. I fancied you had been unjust to one we all value very highly, and my tongue outran me.”

      “These sort of fellows,” continued he, as if unheeding her excuses, “only get a footing in houses where there are no men, or at least none of their own age; and thus they are deemed Admirable Crichtons because they can row, or swim, or kill a salmon. Now, when a gentleman does these things, and fifty more of the same sort, nobody knows it. You’ll see in a day or two here a friend of mine, a certain Norman Maitland, that will beat your young savage at everything, – ride, row, walk, shoot or single-stick him for whatever he pleases; and yet I ‘ll wager you ‘ll never know from Maitland’s manner or conversation that he ever took the lock of a canal in a leap, or shot a jaguar single-handed.”

      “Is your phoenix really coming here?” asked Mrs. Trafford, only too glad to get another channel for the conversation.

      “Yes; here is what he writes;” and he took a note from his pocket. “‘I forget, my dear Lyle, whether your château be beside the lakes of Killarney, the groves of Blarney, or what other picturesque celebrity your island claims; but I have vowed you a visit of two days, – three, if you insist, – but not another if you die for it.’ Is n’t he droll?”

      “He is insufferably impudent. There is ‘a snob’ if there ever was one,” cried Alice, exultingly.

      “Norman Maitland, Norman Maitland a snob! Why, my dear sister, what will you say next? Ask the world its opinion of Norman Maitland, for he is just as well known in St. Petersburg as Piccadilly, and the ring of his rifle is as familiar on the Himalayas as on a Scotch mountain. There is not a gathering for pleasure, nor a country-house party in the kingdom, would not deem themselves thrice fortunate to secure a passing visit from him, and he is going to give us three days.”

      “Has he been long in your regiment, Mark?” asked Mrs. Trafford.

      “Maitland has never served with us; he joined us in Simla as a member of our mess, and we call him ‘of ours’ because he never would dine with the 9th or the 50th. Maitland would n’t take the command of a division to have the bore and worry of soldiering, – and why should he?”

      It was not without astonishment Mark’s sisters saw their brother, usually cold and apathetic in his tone, so warmly enthusiastic about his friend Maitland, of whom he continued to talk with rapture, recalling innumerable traits of character and temper, but which unhappily only testified to the success with which he had practised towards the world an amount of impertinence and presumption that seemed scarcely credible.

      “If he only be like your portrait, I call him downright detestable,” said Mrs. Trafford.

      “Yes, but you are dying to see him all the same, and so is Bella.”

      “Let me answer for myself, Mark,” said Isabella, “and assure you that, so far from curiosity, I feel an actual repugnance to the thought of meeting him. I don’t really know whether the condescending politeness of such a man, or his cool impertinence, is the greater insult.”

      “Poor Maitland, how will you encounter what is prepared for you?” said be, mockingly; “but courage, girls, I think he ‘ll survive it, – only I beg no unnecessary cruelty, – no harshness beyond what his own transgressions may call down upon him; and don’t condemn him merely, and for no other reason, than because he is the friend of your brother.” And with this speech he turned short round and ascended a steep path at his side, and was lost to their view in a minute.

      “Isn’t he changed, Alice? Did you ever see any one so altered?”

      “Not a bit changed, Bella; he is exactly what he was at the grammar-school, at Harrow, and at Sandhurst, – very intolerant to the whole world, as a compensation for the tyranny some one, boy or man as it may be, exercises over him. All his good qualities lie under this veil, and so it was ever with him.”

      “I wish his friend was not coming.”

      “And I wish that he had not sent away ours, for I ‘m sure Tony would have been up here before this if something unusual had not occurred.”

      “Here’s a strange piece of news for you, girls,” said Sir Arthur, coming towards them. “Tony Butler left for Liverpool in the packet this morning. Barnes, who was seeing his brother off, saw him mount the side of the steamer with his portmanteau in his hand. Is it not singular he should have said nothing about this last night?”

      The sisters looked with a certain secret intelligence at each other, but did not speak. “Except, perhaps, he may have told you girls.” added he quickly, and catching the glance that passed between them.

      “No, papa,” said Alice, “he said nothing of his intention to us; indeed, he was to have ridden over with me this morning to Mount-Leslie, and ask about those private theatricals that have been concerted there for the last two years, but of which all the performers either marry or die off during the rehearsals.”

      “Perhaps this all-accomplished friend of Mark’s who comes here СКАЧАТЬ