Affair of Pretense

EPILOGUE

The butler, Porson, pausing in the middle of the hall, gave a slight start as his gaze alighted on the visitor. Since this personage, coming from the direction of stables, had chosen to enter the house by unceremonious means as leaping through the first open french window he clapped eyes on, it was with tolerant resignation, born of the habitual observance of such free and easy behaviour, that he received the newcomer. Mr Collin Dresdenham might be a trifle impetuous, but out of all his lordship's cousins he was accounted to be a particular favourite: a distinction that allowed him the liberty of coming and leaving Braxton Hall as he pleased. Not even his lordship's most disparaging remarks to him could shake the assurance that he was put in a fond regard; and the keenest observers in the household could not fail to see that Mr Collin was also popular among the nursery party. Despite his complaints of how the children were fast becoming veritable rascals he would sneak some treats in their little ready hands and even subject himself nobly to their antics and horseplays in some occasions. The summer months when Lord and Lady Denver would quit the metropolis for the quiet comfort of their own home, and during the summons of the old Duke, would only mean an opportunity to spend time with his most-liked relatives. But it was now very late in the summer, and Porson was indeed surprised that Mr Collin, who would no sooner get hold of the tidings that his cousins had removed to Braxton than dash from the town himself, turned up later than what was customary of him.

"Hullo, old chap! His lordship in?" Mr Dresdenham asked the old retainer with his usual affability, putting his hat upon the narrow table by the wall.

"Good afternoon, Mr Collin. I fancy his lordship is in the study with Mr Warren. Her ladyship is presently with Mrs Wilson, and while you are here, sir, I might as well discover if you are to be staying for dinner?"

He glanced at his fob-watch that indicated it was already half-past four and nodded. "Might as well! You don't keep devilish early hours here, unlike Stanfield. The old man don't want to have anything to do with a morsel after six, and I'd be dashed if I'd starve myself the whole night."

"I hope his grace is doing well?"

"Never better, despite his forever complaining of a dozen ailments and telling us he's turning up his toes anytime soon. What a plumper! He has survived God knows how many times! I'd lay you a crown he's going to live not a day short of a hundred years!"

This sad lack of filial sympathy was in no way disturbed Porson, who knew very well that the Duke was regarded both in awe and dread by his children, and with blithe detachment by his grandchildren. "Does the family intend to stay at Stanfield for the remainder of the summer?"

"Lord, yes! There's Mama and Papa, Aunt Isabella, Charles, Hugo and Mary and their brats—you'd not be surprised that I bolted here as soon as I clapped eyes on the assembly! Can't stand the lot of 'em together!"

"And how about you, Mr Collin?"

There was a blank look in his eyes for a fleeting moment. "Oh! Well, I don't know! Been rather occupied these days, you know."

The butler, observing with discerning eye that the young gentleman seemed in a pensive mood today, merely responded: "Your arrival is very timely, indeed, sir: Lord Dumbolton and Dr Hearting had left only yesterday after a week of stay."

"Did they, now? Well, pretty busy you've been, by Jove. Best not to tire your old bones, Porston! Where are the brats?"

Porson was about to inform him, but a childish laugh from the other side of the hall that opened to the back garden answered this question instantly. Thanking the butler with a pat on one thin shoulder, Collin strode to the direction of the noise and there stumbled upon a quaint domestic scene. A boy and a girl with riots of fair curls and features quite startlingly similar to each other, were at the moment playing with a dingy ball. Their nanny, a middle-aged woman with amiable countenance, was sitting on a chair by the hedge, apparently occupied with the task of restraining the toddler straddling on her lap, who evinced a desire to join his seniors and started to fret. When Collin descended the few marbled steps down to the lawn both the children pounced on him and clutched the tails of his coat, squealing and talking inarticulately at once."Cousin Collin! Cousin Collin!" exclaimed the boy, his green eyes lit with eagerness. "You said we will hunt for beetles the next time you come! Can we do it now?"