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Richard Carvel
VOLUME 6   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVIII. In which I am roundly brought to task
Winston Churchill
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       _ I would have gone to Arlington Street direct, but my friends had no
       notion of letting me escape. They carried me off to Brooks's Club, where
       a bowl of punch was brewed directly, and my health was drunk to three
       times three. Mr. Storer commanded a turtle dinner in my honour. We were
       not many, fortunately,--only Mr. Fox's little coterie. And it was none
       other than Mr. Fox who made the speech of the evening. "May I be strung
       as high as Haman," said he, amid a tempest of laughter, "if ever I saw
       half so edifying a sight as his Grace pitching into the Serpentine,
       unless it were his Grace dragged out again. Mr. Carvel's advent has
       been a Godsend to us narrow ignoramuses of this island, gentlemen.
       To the Englishmen of our colonies, sirs, and that we may never underrate
       or misunderstand them more!"
       "Nay, Charles," cried my Lord Comyn. "Where is our gallantry? I give
       you first the Englishwomen of our colonies, and in particular the pride
       of Maryland, who has brought back to the old country all the graces of
       the new,--Miss Manners."
       His voice was drowned by a deafening shout, and we charged our glasses to
       drain them brimming. And then we all went to Drury Lane to see Mrs.
       Clive romp through 'The Wonder' in the spirit of the "immortal Peg." She
       spoke an epilogue that Mr. Walpole had writ especial for her, and made
       some witty and sarcastic remarks directed at the gentlemen in our
       stagebox. We topped off a very full day by a supper at the Bedford Arms,
       where I must draw the certain.
       The next morning I was abed at an hour which the sobriety of old age
       makes me blush abed think of. Banks had just concluded a discreet
       discourse upon my accomplishment of the day before, and had left for my
       newspapers, when he came running back with the information that Miss
       Manners would see my honour that day. There was no note. Between us
       we made my toilet in a jiffy, and presently I was walking in at the
       Manners's door in an amazing hurry, and scarcely waited for a direction.
       But as I ran up the stairs, I heard the tinkle of the spinet, and the
       notes of an old, familiar tune fell upon my ears. The words rose in my
       head with the cadence.
       "Love me little, love me long,
       Is the burthen of my song,
       Love that is too hot and strong
       Runneth soon to waste."
       That simple air, already mellowed by an hundred years, had always been
       her favourite. She used to sing it softly to herself as we roamed the
       woods and fields of the Eastern Shore. Instinctively I paused at the
       dressing-room door. Nay, my dears, you need not cry out, such was the
       custom of the times. A dainty bower it was, filled with the perfume of
       flowers, and rosy cupids disporting on the ceiling; and china and silver
       and gold filigree strewn about, with my tea-cups on the table. The
       sunlight fell like a halo round Dorothy's head, her hands strayed over
       the keys, and her eyes were far away. She had not heard me. I remember
       her dress,--a silk with blue cornflowers on a light ground, and the
       flimsiest of lace caps resting on her hair. I thought her face paler;
       but beyond that she did not show her illness.
       She looked up, and perceived me, I thought, with a start. "So it is
       you!" she said demurely enough; "you are come at last to give an account
       of yourself."
       "Are you better, Dorothy?" I asked earnestly.
       "Why should you think that I have been ill?" she replied, her fingers
       going back to the spinet. "It is a mistake, sir. Dr. James has given me
       near a gross of his infamous powders, and is now exploiting another cure.
       I have been resting from the fatigues of London, while you have been
       wearing yourself out."
       "Dr. James himself told me your condition was serious," I said.
       "Of course," said she; "the worse the disease, the more remarkable the
       cure, the more sought after the physician. When will you get over your
       provincial simplicity?"
       I saw there was nothing to be got out of her while in this baffling
       humour. I wondered what devil impelled a woman to write one way and talk
       another. In her note to me she had confessed her illness. The words I
       had formed to say to her were tied on my tongue. But on the whole I
       congratulated myself. She knew how to step better than I, and there were
       many awkward things between us of late best not spoken of. But she kept
       me standing an unconscionable time without a word, which on the whole was
       cruelty, while she played over some of Dibdin's ballads.
       "Are you in a hurry, sir," she asked at length, turning on me with a
       smile, "are you in a hurry to join my Lord March or his Grace of Grafton?
       And have you writ Captain Clapsaddle and your Whig friends at home of
       your new intimacies, of Mr. Fox and my Lord Sandwich?"
       I was dumb.
       "Yes, you must be wishing to get away," she continued cruelly, picking up
       the newspaper. "I had forgotten this notice. When I saw it this morning
       I thought of you, and despaired of a glimpse of you to-day." (Reading.)
       "At the Three Hats, Islington, this day, the 10th of May, will be played
       a grand match at that ancient and much renowned manly diversion called
       Double Stick by a sect of chosen young men at that exercise from
       different parts of the West Country, for two guineas given free; those
       who break the most heads to bear away the prize. Before the above-
       mentioned diversion begins, Mr. Sampson and his young German will display
       alternately on one, two, and three horses, various surprising and curious
       feats of famous horsemanship in like manner as at the Grand Jubilee at
       Stratford-upon-Avon. Admittance one shilling each person.' Before you
       leave, Mr. Richard," she continued, with her eyes still on the sheet,
       "I should like to talk over one or two little matters."
       "Dolly--!"
       "Will you sit, sir?"
       I sat down uneasily, expecting the worst. She disappointed me, as usual.
       "What an unspeakable place must you keep in Dover Street! I cannot send
       even a footman there but what he comes back reeling."
       I had to laugh at this. But there was no smile out of my lady.
       "It took me near an hour and a half to answer your note," I replied.
       "And 'twas a masterpiece!" exclaimed Dolly, with withering sarcasm;
       "oh, a most amazing masterpiece, I'll be bound! His worship the French
       Ambassador is a kitten at diplomacy beside you, sir. An hour and a half,
       did you say, sir? Gemini, the Secretary of State and his whole corps
       could not have composed the like in a day."
       "Faith!" I cried, with feeling enough; "and if that is diplomacy, I would
       rather make leather breeches than be given an embassy."
       She fixed her eyes upon me so disconcertingly that mine fell.
       "There was a time," she said, with a change of tone, "there was a time
       when a request of mine, and it were not granted outright, would have
       received some attention. This is my first experience at being ignored."
       "I had made a wager," said I, "and could not retract with honour."
       "So you had made a wager! Now we are to have some news at last. How
       stupid of you, Richard, not to tell me before. I confess I wonder what
       these wits find in your company. Here am I who have seen naught but dull
       women for a fortnight, and you have failed to say anything amusing in a
       quarter of an hour. Let us hear about the wager."
       "Where is little to tell," I answered shortly, considerably piqued.
       "I bet your friend, the Duke of Chartersea, some hundreds of pounds I
       could ride Lord Baltimore's Pollux for twenty minutes, after which his
       Grace was to get on and ride twenty more."
       "Where did you see the duke?" Dolly interrupted, without much show of
       interest.
       I explained how we had met him at Brooks's, and had gone to his house.
       "You went to his house?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows a trifle;
       "and Comyn and Mr. Fox? And pray, how did this pretty subject come up?"
       I related, very badly, I fear, Fox's story of young Wrottlesey and the
       tea-merchant's daughter. And what does my lady do but get up and turn
       her back, arranging some pinks in the window. I could have sworn she was
       laughing, had I not known better.
       "Well?"
       "Well, that was a reference to a little pleasantry Mr. Fox had put up on
       him some time before. His Grace flared, but tried not to show it. He
       said he had heard I could do something with a horse (I believe he made it
       up), and Comyn gave oath that I could; and then he offered to bet Comyn
       that I could not ride this Pollux, who had killed his groom. That made
       me angry, and I told the duke I was no jockey to be put up to decide
       wagers, and that he must make his offers to me."
       "La!" said Dolly, "you fell in head over heels."
       "What do you mean by that?" I demanded.
       "Nothing," said she, biting her lip. "Come, you are as ponderous as Dr.
       Johnson."
       "Then Mr. Fox proposed that his Grace should ride after me."
       Here Dolly laughed in her handkerchief.
       "I'll be bound," said she.
       "Then the duke went to York," I continued hurriedly; and when he came
       back we met him at the Star and Garter. He insisted that the match
       should come off in Hyde Park. I should have preferred the open roads
       north of Bedford House."
       "Where there is no Serpentine," she interrupted, with the faintest
       suspicion of a twinkle about her eyes. "On, sir, on! You are as
       reluctant as our pump at Wilmot House in the dry season. I see you were
       not killed, as you richly deserved. Let us have the rest of your tale."
       "There is very little more to it, save that I contrived to master the
       beast, and his Grace--"
       "--Was disgraced. A vastly fine achievement, surely. But where are you
       to stop? You will be shaming the King next by outwalking him. Pray, how
       did the duke appear as he was going into the Serpentine?"
       "You have heard?" I exclaimed, the trick she had played me dawning upon
       me.
       "Upon my word, Richard, you are more of a simpleton than I thought you.
       Have you not seen your newspaper this morning?"
       I explained how it was that I had not. She took up the Chronicle.
       "'This Mr. Carvel has made no inconsiderable noise since his arrival in
       town, and yesterday crowned his performances by defeating publicly a
       noble duke at a riding match in Hyde Park, before half the quality of the
       kingdom. His Lordship of March and Ruglen acted as umpire.' There, sir,
       was I not right to beg Sir John Fielding to put you in safe keeping until
       your grandfather can send for you?"
       I made to seize the paper, but she held it from me.
       "'If Mr. Carvel remains long enough in England, he bids fair to share the
       talk of Mayfair with a certain honourable young gentleman of Brooks's and
       the Admiralty, whose debts and doings now furnish most of the gossip for
       the clubs and the card tables. Their names are both connected with this
       contest. 'Tis whispered that the wager upon which the match was ridden
       arose--' here Dolly stopped shortly, her colour mounting, and cried out
       with a stamp of her foot. "You are not content to bring publicity upon
       yourself, who deserve it, but must needs drag innocent names into the
       newspapers."
       "What have they said?" I demanded, ready to roll every printer in London
       in the kennel.
       "Nay, you may read for yourself," said she. And, flinging the paper in
       my lap, left the room.
       They had not said much more, Heaven be praised. But I was angry and
       mortified as I had never been before, realizing for the first time what a
       botch I had made of my stay in London. In great dejection, I was picking
       up my hat to leave the house, when Mrs. Manners came in upon me, and
       insisted that I should stay for dinner. She was very white, and seemed
       troubled and preoccupied, and said that Mr. Manners had come back from
       York with a cold on his chest, but would insist upon joining the party to
       Vauxhall on Monday. I asked her when she was going to the baths, and
       suggested that the change would do her good. Indeed, she looked badly.
       "We are not going, Richard," she replied; "Dorothy will not hear of it.
       In spite of the doctor she says she is not ill, and must attend at
       Vauxhall, too. You are asked?"
       I said that Mr. Storer had included me. I am sure, from the way she
       looked at me, that she did not heed my answer. She appeared to hesitate
       on the verge of a speech, and glanced once or twice at the doors.
       "Richard, I suppose you are old enough to take care of yourself, tho' you
       seem still a child to me. I pray you will be careful, my boy," she said,
       with something of the affection she had always borne me, "for your
       grandfather's sake, I pray you will run into no more danger. I--we are
       your old friends, and the only ones here to advise you."
       She stopped, seemingly, to weigh the wisdom of what was to come next,
       while I leaned forward with an eagerness I could not hide. Was she to
       speak of the Duke of Chartersea? Alas, I was not to know. For at that
       moment Dorothy came back to inquire why I was not gone to the cudgelling
       at the Three Hats. I said I had been invited to stay to dinner.
       "Why, I have writ a note asking Comyn," said she. "Do you think the
       house will hold you both?"
       His Lordship came in as we were sitting down, bursting with some news,
       and he could hardly wait to congratulate Dolly on her recovery before he
       delivered it.
       "Why, Richard," says the dog, "what do you think some wag has done now?
       They believe at Brooks's 'twas that jackanapes of a parson, Dr. Warner,
       who was there yesterday with March." He drew a clipping from his pocket.
       "Listen, Miss Dolly:
       "On Wednesday did a carter see
       His Grace, the Duke of Ch-rt--s-a,
       As plump and helpless as a bag,
       A-straddle of a big-boned nag.
       "Lord, Sam!" the carter loudly yelled,
       On by this wondrous sight impelled,
       "We'll run and watch this noble gander
       Master a steed, like Alexander."
       But, when the carter reached the Row,
       His Grace had left it, long ago.
       Bucephalus had leaped the green,
       The duke was in the Serpentine.
       The fervent wish of all good men
       That he may ne'er come out again!'"
       Comyn's impudence took my breath, tho' the experiment interested me not
       a little. My lady was pleased to laugh at the doggerel, and even Mrs.
       Manners. Its effect upon Mr. Marmaduke was not so spontaneous. His
       smile was half-hearted. Indeed, the little gentleman seemed to have
       lost his spirits, and said so little (for him), that I was encouraged to
       corner him that very evening and force him to a confession. But I might
       have known he was not to be caught. It appeared almost as if he guessed
       my purpose, for as soon as ever the claret was come on, he excused
       himself, saying he was promised to Lady Harrington, who wanted one.
       Comyn and I departed early on account of Dorothy. She had denied a dozen
       who had left cards upon her.
       "Egad, Richard," said my Lord, when we had got to my lodgings, "I made
       him change colour, did I not? Do you know how the little fool looks to
       me? 'Od's life, he looks hunted, and cursed near brought to earth. We
       must fetch this thing to a point, Richard. And I am wondering what
       Chartersea's next move will be," he added thoughtfully. _
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Foreword
VOLUME 1
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER I. Lionel Carvel, of Carvel Hall
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER II. Some Memories of Childhood
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER III. Caught by the Tide
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER IV. Grafton would heal an Old Breach
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER V. "If Ladies be but Young and Fair"
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER VI. I first suffer for the Cause
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER VII. Grafton has his Chance
VOLUME 2
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER VIII. Over the Wall
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER IX. Under False Colours
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER X. The Red in the Carvel Blood
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER XI. A Festival and a Parting
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER XII. News from a Far Country
VOLUME 3
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XIII. Mr. Allen shows his Hand
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XIV. The Volte Coupe
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XV. Of which the Rector has the Worst
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XVI. In which Some Things are made Clear
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XVII. South River
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XVIII. The Black Moll.
VOLUME 4
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XIX. A Man of Destiny
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XX. A Sad Home-coming
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXI. The Gardener's Cottage
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXII. On the Road
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXIII. London Town
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXIV. Castle Yard
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXV. The Rescue
VOLUME 5
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXVI. The Part Horatio played
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXVII. In which I am sore tempted
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXVIII. Arlington Street
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXIX. I meet a very Great Young Man
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXX. A Conspiracy
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXXI. "Upstairs into the World"
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXXII. Lady Tankerville's Drum-major
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXXIII. Drury Lane
VOLUME 6
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXIV. His Grace makes Advances
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXV. In which my Lord Baltimore appears .
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVI. A Glimpse of Mr. Garrick
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVII. The Serpentine
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVIII. In which I am roundly brought to task
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXIX. Holland House
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XL. Vauxhall
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XLI. The Wilderness
VOLUME 7
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLII. My Friends are proven
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLIII. Annapolis once more
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLIV. Noblesse Oblige
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLV. The House of Memories
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLVI. Gordon's Pride
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLVII. Visitors
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLVIII. Multum in Parvo
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLIX. Liberty loses a Friend
VOLUME 8
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER L. Farewell to Gordon's
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LI. How an Idle Prophecy came to pass
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LII. How the Gardener's Son fought the Serapis
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LIII. In which I make Some Discoveries
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LIV. More Discoveries.
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LV. The Love of a Maid for a Man
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LVI. How Good came out of Evil
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LVII. I come to my Own again
   Afterward