The Reflections of Ambrosine: Chapter 10

Chapter 10

When I got into my bedroom the door was open into Augustus's room
beyond. He had not come up to dress. Indeed, when I was quite ready
to go down to dinner he had not yet appeared.

Half-past eight sounded.

I descended the stairs quickly and went along the passage towards his
"den." There I met his valet.

"Mr. Gurrage is asleep, ma'am," he said, "and does not seem inclined
to wake, ma'am," and he held the door open for me to pass into the
room.

Augustus was lying in his big chair, before the fire, his face
crimson, his mouth wide open, and snoring and breathing very heavily.
He was still in his shooting-things.

An indescribable smell of scorching tweed and spirit pervaded the
room.

By his side was an almost finished glass of whiskey. The bottle stood
on the tray and another bottle lay, broken, on the floor.

Atkinson began clearing up this _d�bris_.

"Augustus!" I called, but he did not awake. "Augustus, it is time for
dinner!"

"If you please, ma'am," said the valet, coughing respectfully, "if I
might say so, you had better let Mr. Gurrage sleep, ma'am. I'll see
after him. He is--very angry when he is like this and woke suddenly,
ma'am."

I looked at the whiskey bottles and the flushed face. A sickening
disgust overwhelmed me. And there would be no Lady Tilchester to save
me to-night!

"Open the window," I said to Atkinson, "and persuade Mr. Gurrage to go
to bed when he wakes." And I left the room.

All my guests were assembled when I got into the first drawing-room.
Indeed, it was twenty minutes to nine.

Mrs. Dodd had the air of an aggrieved turkey-gobbler. I felt she would
fly at some one.

"We thought we should not get any dinner, Mrs. Gussie," she said,
huffily. "Folks are generally down in their own houses!"

I took no notice of this remark.

"I am so sorry to be late, Lady Wakely," I said, addressing her and
the other women, "but my husband is not well, and, I fear, will not be
able to come in to dinner. He must have caught a chill out shooting."

"Have you sent for the doctor? Because, if not, I know all about
chills with Wullie, who never changes his socks," interrupted Mrs.
Dodd. "Let me go to him, Mrs. Gussie."

"No, thank you. Do not trouble," I said. "His servant and I have
done all that is necessary, and he wishes to sleep. Let us go in
to dinner."

I told them each whom they were to take in, and put my own hand on
Antony's arm. It seemed as if he held it closely to his side, but he
said nothing, and we walked into the dining-room.

I do not know at all what we talked about. Certainly for three
courses everything was a blank to me. But I heard myself laughing,
and Mr. Dodd, who sat on my other hand, seemed mightily amused at
my conversation.

"Why, the open air and a little walking has done you all the good in
the world, Mrs. Gussie!" I was conscious, at last, that he was saying.
"Your cheeks are quite rosy and your eyes as bright as stars."

"Yes, it was a delightful day," I said.

"Talk about chills, Mr. McCormack"--Mrs. Dodd's voice carried across
the table-"I know Gussie Gurrage, and I don't believe he ever had a
chill in his life!"

Antony now began to talk to me quietly. He said very little. His voice
was particularly cool and collected. He never once looked at me. I
was grateful for that. I felt as if I could not bear to see sympathy
in his eyes. He also talked to Lady Wakely, on his other hand, and
chaffed beyond to Miss Springle.

And so the dinner passed, and the ladies rose to leave the
dining-room, Mr. McCormack holding the door for us.

As it was wide open, and all could see into the hall, an apparition
appeared upon the scene, coming from the passage that leads to the
"den"--Augustus, being supported by Atkinson and one of the footmen,
and singing snatches of some low music-hall song.

In an instant Antony had sprung forward and closed the door, Mr.
McCormack and the others standing open-mouthed and inert.

"There, I knew it was no chill!" exclaimed Mrs. Dodd.

"Hush, madam!" said Antony, sternly, his eyes flashing green-blue
fire. "We were very comfortable at the table. Shall we not all sit
down again?"

Lady Wakely at once returned to her chair. The meek Mrs. Broun put
her hand on my arm in sympathy, but I annihilated her with a look as
I swept back to my seat, and soon my guests were once more in their
places.

Then it was that Antony exerted himself to amuse this company. With
the most admirable tact and self-composure, he kept the whole party
entertained for half an hour. And when we again left the room it was
_en bande_, without ceremony, the men accompanying us.

Lady Wakely kindly said good-night in quite a few minutes, and the
other women followed her example. I spoke no word of thanks to Antony.
I did not even look into his face.

When I got to my boudoir I could hear Augustus's drunken snores from
the room beyond. He had mercifully fallen asleep.

I did not ring for McGreggor. I would stay in my sitting-room all
night. Roy came up to me and licked my hand. Then suddenly something
seemed to give way in my will, and I dropped on the rug beside my dog
and cried as I have never cried in my life, my head buried in his
soft, black coat.

Oh, grandmamma, forgive me for such weakness! But surely, if we had
known of this horror, even the Calincourts need not have kept their
word to a drunken man!

I did not hear the door open, but suddenly was conscious of Antony's
voice.

"Ambrosine, for God's sake don't cry so!" he whispered, hoarsely.

I did not look up.

"Oh, I want to thank you for your kindness," I sobbed, "but if you
would continue it you will leave me now."

He knelt on the rug beside me, but he did not even touch my hair.

"I cannot leave you--miserable like this," he said, brokenly, as
if the words were dragged from him. "Ambrosine, my dearest! Little
Comtesse, please, please do not cry!"

Joy ran through me at his words. My sobs ceased.

The drunken voice of Augustus began the song again from the next room.

I started up in terror. Oh, if he should burst into this room!

"Antony," I implored, "if you want to serve me, go!" And I opened the
passage door.

He drew me into the corridor with him.

"I tell you, you shall not stay here alone with that brute!" he said,
fiercely. "Promise me you will go to your maid's room and not come
into this part of the house to-night. I will see his valet and arrange
things safely for him."

"Very well," I said, and then I ran. If I had stayed another
moment--ah, well!

* * * * *

Augustus was too ill to get up next morning. It was raining again,
and, by common consent, our guests left by mid-day trains.

Sir Samuel Wakely said, with gruff kind-heartedness, when I appeared
at breakfast:

"I have seen Wilks, and he says there is very little chance of its
clearing for us to shoot to-day, so I think Lady Wakely and I will be
starting home before luncheon-time. With your husband ill, I am sure
you would be glad to be relieved of visitors."

Lady Wakely also expressed her regret at leaving, and said a number
of kind things with perfect tact.

The good taste of some of the rest of the party was not so apparent.
Mrs. Broun gushed open sympathy and had to be snubbed; Miss Springle
giggled, while Mrs. Dodd muttered a number of disagreeable things, and
the other women remained in shocked silence.

The men were awkward and uncomfortable, too. Altogether it was a
morning that is unpleasant to remember. Antony was the only person
unmoved and exactly the same as usual. It steadied my nerves to look
at him.

I had not seen Augustus, as I had come straight from a room near
McGreggor's, where I had spent the night. As I was leaving the
dining-room I went towards the staircase, but Antony stopped me.

"Do not go up," he said. "Leave him to himself. The doctor is with
him, and when he has completely recovered he will probably be
penitent. He has only just escaped delirium tremens, and will most
likely be in bed for a day or two. Promise me that you will not go
near his room or I will stay and look after you myself."

Oh, the kindness in his voice!

"Yes, I promise," I said, meekly.

"Then I will say good-bye, Comtesse, until we meet at Dane Mount on
the 4th of November."

"Good-bye," I faltered, and we shook hands calmly before the rest of
the company standing about the hall.

But when the tuff-tuff-tuff of his automobile subsided in the
distance, I felt as if all things were dead.

The evening post brought an invitation from the Duke of Myrlshire,
asking us to go and stay with him for a small shoot on the 30th of
October.

Augustus sent for me.

As I had promised, I had not been near him until this moment.

He was still in bed, and looked ill and unshaven. He was reading his
letters, and glanced up at me with heavy, bloodshot eyes.

"Just got a line from Myrlshire," he said, pompously, without a trace
of shame or regret in his voice.

"He says he has written to you, too; he wants me to shoot on the
30th."

I remained silent. I did not mean to irritate him, but the whole scene
made me numb with disgust.

"Why the devil don't you answer?" Augustus raged, his face flushing
darkly. "Write at once and say we shall be delighted to accept."

"You are engaged to shoot with Mr. Dodd for that date," I informed
him.

Mr. Dodd was sent to perdition, and Mrs. Dodd, too, and then he said,
more quietly:

"Sit down now and write to the Duke. I would not miss this for
anything."

I did not stir from where I stood.

"Listen, Augustus," I said. "I will not visit with you anywhere, and I
will let every one know the reason, unless you swear, by whatever you
hold sacred, that you will never utterly disgrace yourself again as
you did last night. When you have decided to make this oath you can
let me know." And I left the room, leaving the air behind me thick
with curses.

I had one of the most distant spare rooms prepared for myself, and
when I was going to bed a note came to me.

"I swear," it ran. "Only come back to me. I want to kiss you
good-night."

"Tell Mr. Gurrage I will see him in the morning," I said to Atkinson,
and I locked my door.

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