When he came in with his Royal guests, the rest of the party was already assembled. Everyone stood up, the soldiers to attention, civilian gentlemen deeply bowing, and all the ladies swaying into curtsies like lilies in a high wind. The King and Queen acknowledged their reception, the Duke gave a quick look round, saw that everything was just as it should be, nodded his satisfaction to Colonel Audley, who happened to be standing near him, and escorted the Royals to their places.
The concert began with a Haydn symphony, but although his lordship, who had a great appreciation of good music, enjoyed it, the piece de resistance for most of his guests was the appearance of La Catalani. His lordship described her as being as sharp as a Jew, and Colonel Fremantle had certainly found her so. Nothing could induce her to sing more than two songs, and she had haggled over them. However, when she mounted the platform, she looked as lovely as any angel, and when she opened her mouth and let the golden notes soar heavenwards, even Fremantle felt that he must have misjudged her. She favoured the company first with an aria from Porto-Gullo, and then with an allegro, which showed off the flexibility of her voice to admiration. She was cheered, and encored, but there was no getting another song out of her. She curtsied again and again, blew kisses to the audience, and finally withdrew, apparently exhausted.
The dancing began soon afterwards. The Duke, finding himself standing beside Barbara Childe, said: "Lovely voice that Catalani women has, don't you agree?"
"Yes, she sings like an angel, or a nightingale, or whatever the creature is that sings better than all others. She has put me quite out of temper, I can tell you, for I had a song for you, Duke, and flattered myself I should have made a hit!"
"What? Are you going to sing for me?" he asked, delighted. "Capital! I shall enjoy that, I assure you! What is your voice? Why have I not heard it before?"
"Oh," she said saucily, "it is not my voice which I Depended on to make the hit with you, but the song!"
"Ah, now I believe you are quizzing me, Lady Bab! What song is this?"
She looked demurely, under her lashes, and replied: "I am sure you would have been pleased! I should have sung for you Ahe Marmont, onde vai, Marmont!"
He gave his neigh of sudden laughter. "Oh, that's very good! That's famous! But, hush! Can't have that song nowadays, you know. Who told you about it? That rascal Audley, was it? They used to sing it a lot in Spain. Pretty tune!"
"Charming! Where was he going, poor Marmont?"
"Back to France, of course," said his lordship. "Chased out of Spain: romped, that's what the song's about."
"Oh, I see! He was in Brussels last month, I believe. Did you reckon him a great general, Duke?"
"Oh no, no!" he said, shaking his head. "Massena was the best man they ever sent against me. I always found him where I least wanted him to be. Marmont used to manoeuvre about in the usual French style, nobody knew with what object."
He caught sight of his niece, and beckoned to her, and patted her hand when she came up to him. "Not tired, Emily? That's right! Lady Bab, you must let me present my niece, Lady Fitzroy Somerset. But you must not be standing about, my dear!" he added, in a solicitous undervoice. Lady Fitzroy flushed faintly, but replied in her gentle way that she was not at all tired, had no wish to sit down, and was, in point of fact, looking for her mother and sister. The Duke reminded her bluffly that she must take care of herself, and went off to exchange a few words with Sir Charles Stuart. Lady Frances Webster, who had been watching him, was very glad to see him go. She profoundly mistrusted Barbara Childe, and had suffered quite an agonising pang at the sight of his lordship whooping with laughter at what Barbara had said to him.
Barbara, however, had no desire to steal his lordship's affection. She had begun to waltz with Colonel Ponsonby; passed from his arms to those of Major Thornhill; and found herself at the end of the dance standing close to Lord Uxbridge, who immediately stepped up to her, exclaiming: "Why, Bab, my lovely one! How do you do? They tell me you're engaged to be married! How has that come about? I thought you were a hardened case!"
She gave him her hand. "Oh, so did I, but you know how it is! Besides, Gussie tells me I shall soon be quite passee. Have you seen her? She is here somewhere."
"I caught a glimpse, but to tell you the truth I have been the whole evening shaking hands with strangers. Who is the lucky man? I hope he is one of my fellows?"
"In a way I suppose you may say that he is. He's on the Duke's staff, however - Charles Audley. But tell me, Harry: are you glad to be here?"
"Yes," he replied instantly. "Oh, I know what you are thinking, but that's old history now!"
She laughed. "It is an enchanting situation! Do you find it awkward?"
"Not a bit!" he said, with cheerful unconcern. "I go on very well with Wellington, and shall do the same with the fellows under me, when they get to know me - and I them. What's forming? A quadrille! Now, Bab, you must and you shall dance with me - for old time's sake ."
"How melancholy that sounds! You must settle it with Colonel Audley, who is coming to claim it. I daresay he won't give it up, for I told him that you were my first love, you know. Charles, I must make you known to Lord Uxbridge."
"How do you do? Bab tells me you should by rights be one of my people. By the by, you must let me congratulate you: you are a fortunate fellow! I have been Bab's servant any time these ten years knew her when she had her hair all down her back, and wouldn't sew her sampler. You are to be envied."
"I envy you, sir. I would give much to have known her then."
"She was a bad child. Now, if you please, you are to fancy yourself back in your regiment, and under my command. I have to request you, Colonel Audley (but I own it to be a dastardly trick!), to relinquish this dance to me."
The Colonel smiled. "You put me in an awkward position, sir. My duty, and all the Service Regulations, oblige me to obey you with alacrity; but how am I to do so without offending Bab?"
"I will make your peace with her, I promise you," replied Uxbridge.
"Very well, sir: I obey under strong protest."
"Quite irregular! But I don't blame you! Come, you witch, or it will be too late."
He led Barbara into the set that was forming. A hand clapped Colonel Audley on the shoulder. "Hallo, Charles! Slighted, my boy?"
The Colonel turned to confront Lord Robert Manners. "You, is it? How are you, Bob?"
"Oh, toll-loll!" said Manners, giving his pelisse a hitch. "I have just been telling Worth all the latest London scandal. You know, you're a paltry fellow to be enjoying yourself on the staff in stirring times like these, upon my word you are! I wish you were back with us."
"Enjoying myselfl You'd better try being one of the Beau's ADCs, my boy! You don't know when you're well off, all snug and comfortable with the Regiment!"
"Pho! A precious lot of comfort we shall have when we go into action. When you trot off in your smart cocked hat, with a message in your pocket, think of us, barging to death or glory!"
"I will," promised the Colonel. "And when you're enjoying your nice, packed charge, spare a thought for the lonely and damnably distinctive figure galloping hell for leather with his message, wishing to God every french sharpshooter didn't know by his cocked hat he was a staff officer, and wondering whether his horse is going to hold up under him or come down within easy reach of the French lines: he will very likely be me!"