But it was Lance who held my attention. His fresh complexion was accentuated by the whiteness of his Ramillies wig, which was drawn back from his brow and puffed out full over the ears. At the back it was made into a plait which was tied at the bottom and at the nape of his neck with black satin bows. The cuffs of his elegantly cut full-skirted coat were trimmed with exquisite lace. This coat came down to his knees so that his breeches were not visible, but I could glimpse a beautifully embroidered waistcoat. His stockings were white and his black shoes had silver buckles. On one of the gold buttons on his coat hung a cane. I had never seen such a picture of elegance and I was greatly impressed.
I was presented to him by my great-uncle Carl, who seemed fond of him in an amused sort of way. He was to stay with us for a while, I learned, until he went with Carl to York. Their business there was secret. I was warned not to ask anything about it.
They both stayed at Eversleigh Court.
At Enderby we discussed Lance at length. Jeremy thought him a fop, but Damaris was inclined to be more tolerant. "Uncle Carl seems to think something of him," she said. "After all, he's traveling to York with him on what appears to be important business.”
"I can't understand that," muttered Jeremy.
"He is only a young man," Damaris pointed out. "He must have been only a boy when he joined the army. That shows some strength of character surely, when he might have been at home having a good time in London. I believe he comes of a rich family.”
Jeremy grunted. Of course he would not like Lance Clavering. If ever two men were the exact opposites, these two were. Lance was in constant good humor. He seemed to find life a great joke. He was extremely gallant and expressed interest in whatever interested other people. He even discussed the making of country wines with Priscilla; with Damaris he talked of dogs and horses, and with the men he discussed the battles of the war with a knowledge that almost equaled that of Great-uncle Carl himself.
Even Great-grandfather Carleton was amused by him. Lance and I rode together on one or two occasions, and he made a great effort to discover what interested me and then talked about it with such enthusiasm that one would have believed the subject was the one nearest his heart. He had charm, grace, elegance and, above all, that overwhelming desire to please.
"He is a great asset to any gathering," was Arabella's comment.
Jeanne said, "Oh, but what a pretty gentleman!" And when I told him what she had said he was not in the least offended. He burst out laughing and said he must make sure to remain pretty for Jeanne.
His imperturbable good humor was catching and there was a great deal of laughter when he was present. Life seemed a joke to him. When the men went hunting, one of our neighbors-a "country boor," Carleton called him-made a point of splashing through a muddy stream so that the dirty water spattered Lance's pearl-gray riding habit.
Lance brushed it aside, I heard, with nonchalance and made the perpetrator of the so-called joke more uncomfortable than he was.
He was always wagering something. It was a favorite expression of his: "I'll wager this ..." or "I'll wager that ...”
One day when we were all at Eversleigh Court round the dinner table the talk turned to the arrival of the new King, and Great-grandfather Carleton was saying that it was a pity we had to call on a German to give us the sort of rule we wanted.
All the family was staunchly Protestant. I was the only one who wavered, and that was solely because Hessenfield had been a Jacobite. I did realize that I knew very little about the controversy) and I had heard so much at Eversleigh about the errors of Catholicism that I was ready to accept the fact that the Protestant succession was best for the country.
'But even with our staunch Protestants the new King is not Popular," said Arabella.
"Anne called him the 'German bqor,' and it is a fitting description," said Great-uncle Carl.
"But we don't want the Jacobites back," cried Carleton. "And George seems the only alternative.”
"At least he is in the line of succession," put in Arabella. "I remember hearing about his grandmother ... oh, long ago, when I was girl. She was the sister of King Charles, who lost his head, and a very beautiful Princess, they said. She married the Elector Palatine. Sophia was her daughter, and as George was Sophia's son he had a claim to the throne.”
"The Jacks wouldn't say that while we have the son of James panting to take the crown,”
said Lance, laughing as though it were a great joke. "They'll never put him back.
The people don't want it. But they'll have a good try.”
Uncle Carl flashed a look at him which might have been a warning.
