THE EARL OF PECKHAM'S PROPOSAL

Miss Arnott soon realised what Mrs Stacey had meant by insisting on the impossibility of her living a solitary life. So soon as she arrived upon the scene, visitors began to appear at Exham Park in a constant stream. The day after she came calls were made by two detachments of the clergy, and by the representatives of three medical men. But, as Mrs Plummer somewhat unkindly put it, these might be regarded as professional calls; or, in other words, requests for custom.

"Since you are the patron of these livings, their present holders were bound to haste and make obeisance--though it would seem that, in that respect, one of them is still a defaulter. The way in which those two doctors and their wives, who happened to come together, glowered at each other was beautiful. One quite expected to see them lapse into mutual charges of unprofessional conduct. Which of the three do you propose to favour?"

"Mr Cavanagh says that uncle used to patronise all three. He had one for the servants on the estate one for the indoor servants, and one for himself."

"And which of the three was it who killed him?"

"There came a time when all three were called together to consult upon his case. That finished uncle at once. He died within four-and-twenty hours. So Mr Cavanagh says."

"I suppose Mr Cavanagh is able to supply you with little interesting details on all sorts of recondite subjects?"

"Oh yes; he is like a walking encyclopedia of information on all matters connected with the estate. Whenever I want to know anything I simply go to him; he always knows. It is most convenient."

"And I presume that he is always willing to tell you what you want to know."

"Most willing. I never met a more obliging person. And so good-humoured. Have you noticed his smile?"

"I can't say that I have paid particular attention to his smile."

"It's wonderful; it lights up all his face and makes him positively handsome. I think he's a most delightful person, and so clever. I'm sure he's immensely popular with everyone; not at all like the hard-as-nails stewards one reads about. I can't imagine what Mr Stacey meant byalmost expressing a regret that he had not displaced him, can you?"

"Some people sometimes say such extraordinary things that it's no use trying to imagine what they mean."

The answer was a trifle vague; but it seemed to satisfy Miss Arnott.

Neither of the ladies looked to see if the other was smiling.

Mrs Stacey's sibylline utterance was prophetic; in a fortnight the whole county had called--that is, so much of it as was within anything like calling distance, and in the country in these days "calling distance" is a term which covers a considerable expanse of ground.

Practically the only abstentions were caused by people's absence from home. It was said that some came purposely from London, and even farther, so that they might not lose an opportunity of making Miss Arnott's acquaintance.

For instance, there was the case of the Dowager Countess of Peckham. It happened that the old lady's dower house was at Stevening, some fourteen or fifteen miles from Exham Park. Since she had never occupied it since the time it came into her possession, having always preferred to let it furnished to whoever might come along, one would scarcely have supposed that she would have called herself Miss Arnott's neighbour. When, however, a little bird whispered in her ear what a very charming millionairess was in practically solitary occupation of Exham Park, it chanced that, for the moment, her own house was untenanted, and, within four-and-twenty hours of the receipt of that whispered communication, for the first time in her life she was under its roof. On the following day she covered the fourteen miles which lay between her and Exham Park in a hired fly, was so fortunate as to find Miss Arnott at home, and was so agreeably impressed by the lady herself, by her surroundings, and by all that she heard of her, that she stopped at the village post office on her homeward journey to send a peremptory telegram to her son to come at once. The Earl of Peckham came. He had nothing particular to do just then; or, at least, nothing which he could not easily shirk. He might as well run down to his mother. So he ran down on his automobile. Immediately on his arrival she favoured him with a few home truths; as she had done on many previous occasions, and peremptorily bundled him over to Exham Park.

"Mind! you now have a chance such as you never had before; and such as you certainly will never have again. The girl has untold wealth absolutely at her own command; she hasn't a relation in the world; she is alone with a woman who is perfectly ready to be hoodwinked; she knows n.o.body worth speaking of. You will have her all to yourself, it will be your own fault if she's not engaged to you in a fortnight, and your wife within six weeks. Think of it, a quarter of a million a year, not as representing her capital, you understand, but a year! and absolutely no relations. None of that crowd of miserable hangers-on which so often represents the mushroom millionaire's family connections. If you don't take advantage of this heaven-sent opportunity, Peckham, you are past praying for--that's all I can say."

Peckham sighed. According to her that always was all she could say, and she had said it so many times. He motored over to Exham Park in a frame of mind which was not in keeping with the character of a light-hearted wooer. He had wanted his mother to accompany him. But she had a conservative objection to motor cars, nothing would induce her to trust herself on one. So, reluctantly enough, he went alone.

"You ask Miss Arnott to lunch to-morrow; you can go over yourself and bring her on your car, it will be an excellent opening. And when she is here I will do the honours. But I have no intention of risking my own life on one of those horrible machines."

As he reached the bottom of a rather steep slope, his lordship met a lady and a gentleman, who were strolling side by side. Stopping, he addressed the gentleman,--

"I beg your pardon, but can you tell me if I am going right for Exham Park? There were crossroads some way back, at the top of the hill, but I was going so fast that I couldn't see what was on the direction posts. I mean Miss Arnott's."

"You will find the lodge gate on your right, about half a mile further on." The speaker hesitated, then added, "This is Miss Arnott."

Off came his lordship's hat again.

"I am very fortunate. I am Peckham--I mean the Earl of Peckham. My mother has sent me with a message."

The lady was regarding the car with interested eyes.

"I never have been on a motor car, but if you could find room for me on yours, you might take me up to the house, and--give me the message."

In a trice the mechanician was in the tonneau, and the lady by his lordship's side. As Mr Cavanagh, left alone, gazed after the retreating car, it was not the good-humoured expression of his countenance which would have struck Miss Arnott most.

The young lady's tastes were plainly altogether different from the old one's--at anyrate, so far as motor cars were concerned. Obviously she did not consider them to be horrible machines. She showed the liveliest interest in this, the first one of which she had had any actual experience. They went for quite a lengthy drive together, three times up and down the drive, which meant nearly nine miles. Once, at the lady's request, the driver showed what his car could do. As it was a machine of the highest grade, and of twenty-four horse power, it could do a good deal. Miss Arnott expressed her approbation of the performance.

"How splendid! I could go on like that for ever; it blows one about a bit, but if one were sensibly dressed that wouldn't matter. How fast were we going?"

"Oh, somewhere about fifty miles an hour. It's all right in a place like this; but, the worst of it is, there are such a lot of beastly policemen about. It's no fun having always to pay fines for excessive speed, and damages for running over people, and that kind of thing."

"I should think not, indeed. Have you ever run over anyone?"

"Well, not exactly; only, accidents will happen, you know."

As she observed that young man's face, a suspicion dawned upon her mind, that--when he was driving--they occasionally would.

Ere she descended she received some elementary lessons in the art of controlling a motor car. And, altogether, by the time they reached the house, and the message was delivered, they were on terms of considerable intimacy.

The acquaintance, thus auspiciously begun, rapidly ripened. The Earl did not find the business on which he was engaged anything like such a nuisance as he had feared; on the contrary, he found it an agreeable occupation. He was of opinion that the girl was not half a bad sort; that, in fact, she was a very good sort indeed. He actually decided that she would have been eligible for a place in the portrait gallery of the Countesses of Peckham even if she had not been set in such a desirable frame. That motor car was a great aid to intimacy. He drove her; and he taught her to drive him. Sometimes, the chauffeur being left behind, they had the car to themselves. It was on such an occasion, when their acquaintance hardly extended beyond his mother's suggested fortnight, that he made her an offer of his hand and heart.

She was driving at the time, and going at a pretty good pace, which was possibly on the wrong side of the legal limit; but when she began to have an inkling of what he was talking about, she instantly put on the brakes, and pulled up dead. She was so taken by surprise, and her own hideous position was so continually present to her mind's eye, that it was some seconds before she perceived that the young man at her side must, of necessity, be completely unconscious of the monstrous nature of his proposal. She was silent for several moments, then she answered, while the car was still at a standstill in the middle of the road,--

"Thank you. No doubt your offer is not meant unkindly; but acceptance on my part is altogether out of the question."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it is. I am sorry you should have spoken like this, because I was beginning to like you."

"Isn't that a reason why I should speak? If you are beginning to like me, by degrees you may get to like me more and more."

"I think not. Because this little _contretemps_ will necessarily put a period to our acquaintance."

"Oh, rats! that isn't fair! If I'd thought it would worry you I wouldn't have said a word. Only--I should like to ask if there is anybody else."

"Do you mean, is there anyone else to whom I am engaged to be married?

There is not--and there never will be."

"I say, Miss Arnott! Every man in England--who can get within reach of you--will have tried his luck before the end of the season. You will have to take one of them, to save yourself from being bothered."

"Shall I? You think so? You are wrong. If you don't mind, I will turn the car round, and take it to the lodge gate; then I will get out, and walk home. Only there must be no more conversation of this sort on the way, or I shall get out at once."

"You need not fear that I shall offend again; put her round."

She "put her round." They gained the lodge gate. The lady descended.

"Good-bye, Lord Peckham. I have to thank you for some very pleasant rides, and for much valuable instruction. I'm sorry I couldn't do what you wanted, but--it's impossible."