Mr Marling entered the room presently to find his mamma in a distracted mood.
‘Good heavens, John, what an age you have been!’ she cried. ‘Pray shut the door! The most dreadful thing has happened, and you must go immediately to Bedford.’
Mr Marling replied reasonably: ‘I fear it will be most inconvenient for me to leave London to-day, mamma, as I am invited by Mr Hope to accompany him to a meeting of the Royal Society. I understand there will be a discussion on the Phlogistic Theory, in which I am interested.’
Lady Fanny stamped her foot. ‘Pray what is the use of a stupid theory when Vidal is about to shame us all with a dreadful scandal? You can’t go to any society! You must go to Bedford.’
‘When you ask, mamma, what is the use of the Phlogistic Theory, and apparently compare it with Vidal’s exploits, I can only reply that the comparison is ridiculous, and renders the behaviour of my cousin completely insignificant,’ said Mr Marling with heavy sarcasm.
‘I do not want to hear another word about your tiresome theory,’ declared her ladyship. ‘When our name is dragged in the mud we shall see whether Vidal’s conduct is insignificant or no.’
‘I am thankful to say, ma’am, that my name is not Alastair. What has Vidal done now?’
‘The most appalling thing! I must write at once to your aunt. I always said he would go too far one of these days. Poor, poor Léonie! I vow my heart quite aches for her.’
Mr Marling watched her seat herself at her writing-table, and once more inquired: ‘What has Vidal done now?’
‘He has abducted an innocent girl – not that I believe a word of it, for the mother’s a harpy, and I’ve little doubt the girl went with him willingly enough. If she didn’t, I shudder to think what may happen.’
‘If you could contrive to be more coherent, mamma, I might understand better.’
Lady Fanny’s quill spluttered across the paper. ‘You will never understand anything except your odious theories, John,’ she said crossly, but she paused in her letter-writing, and gave him a vivid and animated account of her interview with Mrs Challoner.
At the end of it, Mr Marling said in a disgusted voice: ‘Vidal is shameless. He had better marry this young female and live abroad. I quite despair of him, and I feel sure that while he is allowed to run wild in England we shall none of us know a moment’s peace.’
‘Marry her? And pray what do you suppose Avon would have to say to that? We can only hope and trust that something may yet be done.’
‘I had better journey to Newmarket, I suppose, and inform my uncle,’ said Mr Marling gloomily.
‘Oh John, don’t be so provoking!’ cried his mother. ‘Léonie would never forgive me if I let this come to Avon’s ears. You must fetch her from the Vanes at once, and we will lay our heads together.’
‘It is impossible not to feel affection for my Aunt Léonie,’ announced Mr Marling, ‘but have you considered, mamma, that she is capable of treating even this piece of infamy with levity?’
‘It does not signify in the least. All you need do is to bear this letter to her, and bring her back to town,’ said Lady Fanny imperatively.
Mr Marling, disapproving but obedient, arrived at Lady Vane’s house near Bedford that evening. There were several people staying there, but he contrived to meet his aunt in a room apart. His countenance was so lugubrious that she asked him in quick alarm if anything were amiss?
‘Aunt,’ said Mr Marling gravely, ‘I am the bearer of bad tidings.’
Léonie turned pale. ‘Monseigneur?’ she faltered.
‘No, ma’am, so far as I am aware my uncle enjoys his customary health.’
‘Ah, mon Dieu, it is Dominique! He has been shot in a duel? drowned in his yacht? dead of a fever? Speak, you!’
‘My cousin is well, ma’am. Do not alarm yourself on that score. But the news is the worst imaginable.’
‘If he is well it cannot be the worst,’ said Léonie. ‘Please do not prepare me for a shock any more; I find it too alarming. What has happened to my son?’
‘Madam, I regret to be obliged to soil your ears with the story, which I myself find excessively disagreeable. Vidal has abducted – I fear perhaps with violence – a young female of virtue and family.’
‘Oh, mordieu, it is the bourgeoise !’ said Léonie. ‘And now Monseigneur will be more displeased than ever! Tell me it all!’
Mr Marling regarded her with an expression of pained severity. ‘Possibly, my dear aunt, you would prefer to read it. I have a billet for you from my mother.’
‘Give it to me at once, then,’ said Léonie, and fairly snatched it from his hand.
Lady Fanny’s agitated scrawl covered three pages. Léonie read them quickly, and exclaimed at the end that Fanny was an angel. She said that she would return to town at once, and upon her hostess coming into the room, greeted her with apologies, and the information that Lady Fanny was ill, and needed her. Lady Vane was all solicitude, and put a number of sympathetic questions to John which caused that conscientious young man to wriggle uncomfortably. She prevailed on Léonie to postpone her departure at least until next morning, and this Léonie consented to do out of consideration for her nephew, who had been travelling all day.