Charles Williamson - Lord Loveland Discovers America

Had he, like Loveland, been merely a guest in America, he would have left the ship's dock when Lord Loveland left, and have been able to show all whom it concerned at the Waldorf-Astoria that Loveland was his property. But he was subjected by the dreaded Custom House officials to treatment very different from that meted out to the Englishman, being baited and bullied as if he were a bear instead of a bear-leader.

The detention, however, proved a blessing in disguise, for it gave him Mr. Anthony Kidd of "Light." The journalist, sent down by his paper to meet the Mauretania , had just exhausted the available supply of home-coming millionaires when he spied Major Cadwallader Hunter, and carelessly culled him by the way, as worth a short paragraph at the bottom of a column.

Cadwallader Hunter was glad of a paragraph anywhere, but thought he saw his way to one higher up, perhaps even with a headline. So he happened to mention "a connection of his," the Marquis of Loveland who had been on board, though, for reasons, the noble name did not appear on the passenger list, and Mr. Kidd took the bait. Loveland was described by his alleged cousin as a "dear boy," so handsome, so clever; one of the oldest peerages in England, et cetera, et cetera; in the Grenadier Guards, don't you know, and all that sort of thing. Had gone on ahead to secure rooms at the Waldorf-Astoria, though invitations had been showered upon him by the best people on board ship. As soon as he could escape with life and luggage Cadwallader Hunter intended to pay a friendly call and inspect Lord Loveland's new quarters.

Of course Mr. Kidd wanted to call, too, and get a "story" for his paper. But at this suggestion the bear-leader shook his head. Charming fellow as Loveland was when you knew him, he was rather a difficult man to approach, and had some ridiculous prejudice against American pressmen. Certainly, unless influence were brought to bear, he would refuse to see Mr. Kidd; but Cadwallader Hunter would like to do "Light" a good turn, and give the paper a chance for a "scoop." He would take Mr. Kidd under his wing, and use his persuasive powers to obtain some sort of an interview.

Perhaps there was more confidence in his manner than in his mind as he made this offer, for the bear's leader had already seen the bear's claws; but the risk was worth running. And when, arrived at the Waldorf, he had talked for a few minutes with pleasant condescension to a hotel clerk, his self-esteem had so risen that he no longer dreaded a cold reception.

Nor did he receive one. His welcome was, on the contrary, far warmer than he had expected, and the hot blast of Loveland's wrath swept him back a step or two, so that he trod hard upon Tony Kidd's most pampered toe.

A difficult young man to approach, indeed!

The representative of "New York Light" was a brilliant journalist with a keen sense of humour, and a headline jumped into his head as Cadwallader Hunter stamped upon his toe. "A Difficult Young Man to Approach." He thought he saw his way to something rather choice for tomorrow morning's "Light."

Somehow, between valet and page, the wild litter of shirts, trousers, boots, and other horrors reminiscent of Foxham, was re-built into a tower more leaning than before. Then, while the valet scuttled away with his trailing, sliding load, the page remained behind and courageously announced the visitors.

Perhaps if Foxham had spared him a few of his favourite tie pins, or if the blow of his loss had not caught him on an empty stomach, Loveland might have seen the humour of the situation as Tony Kidd saw it. But everything was against him in a black world; and his late shipmate's intrusion with a stranger was the one last drop in a bitter cup which he refused to swallow.

Never had Cadwallader Hunter's handsome bear looked less handsome or more dangerous than he looked as he stood blocking the way to his den, at bay against fate and against his leader.

"My dear fellow, what has happened to upset you?" exclaimed Cadwallader Hunter, warned by Loveland's expression that the only hope lay in getting the first word.

"Upset me?" echoed Val, glaring blue fire so vindictively that Kidd expected his introducer to be the next one "upset." "My d – d valet has stolen all my clothes, and made me a present of his own, that's all."

"How shocking!" sympathised Cadwallader Hunter.

"Well, yes, it is rather a shock," returned Loveland drily, "and if you don't mind, I think I'd better ask you to let me get over it alone."

"Oh! certainly, I quite understand," purred the banished courtier. But Kidd was making mental notes, and Cadwallader Hunter strove to retain his reputation as a valued cousin. "Just a minute or two, dear boy, and we'll take ourselves off. This is Mr. Kidd, from one of our most important papers – "

"Happy to see him another time," snapped Loveland. "Just now I'm in no temper to entertain strangers."

"But at least," Cadwallader Hunter protested, "you mustn't look on me as a stranger, my dear fellow – and if there's anything I can do – "

"My dear fellow," Loveland flung back at him, in angry mimicry, "if you keep on, I'm more likely to look on you as a bore. The one thing you can do for me is to go, and take your newspaper friend with you. Good morning."

And the bear shot back into his den, banging the door.

"The British Lion before his midday meal," remarked the representative of "New York Light." "Another minute, and he'd have snatched a free lunch – Kidd with Hunter Sauce! But serve me up on toast if he hasn't got sauce enough of his own."

"He comes of a hot-tempered family." Cadwallader Hunter explained his English relative.

"I should say they'd been hot ever since William the Conqueror," commented Mr. Kidd. "Good family to keep away from when you haven't got your gun. I forgot mine this morning."

But he had not forgotten his stylographic pen.

The moment that the door had slammed, Loveland's ears tingled with the consciousness that not only had he been guilty of a very rude act, but a particularly stupid one.

He had never liked Cadwallader Hunter, had lately grown tired and sick of him, and detested him cordially now, for a peppery second or two; yet all this did not do away with noblesse oblige . Nothing could excuse forgetfulness of one's obligation, the obligation to be a gentleman; and Loveland was irritably aware that he had forgotten it.

He reminded himself that a great liberty had been taken with him at an inopportune moment, that he was not used to having liberties taken with him at the best of times, and that Cadwallader Hunter deserved all he had got for coming up to him uninvited, with a stranger – a newspaper man – in tow. Still, Val was not happy, and if he had not been too stubbornly proud to yield to his first impulse, he would have flung open the door and run after his visitors with apologies. But no; he would not do it. A bad precedent to make with a person like Cadwallader Hunter, he said, excusing himself. The Major would take advantage of it; and as for the journalist, he – Lord Loveland – stood on purple heights so lofty that he need fear no spiteful yapping of dogs on lower levels. Nothing could drag him down to their depths; and as his idea was that American newspaper men were no slaves to truth, he told himself that this one would probably have lied in any case.

With such thoughts vaguely stirring in his mind, and assured that Cadwallader Hunter's past civility had been entirely for what he could get, Loveland tried to re-establish friendly relations with his own conscience; but the uneasy pricking would not stop. It drove him up and down, in and out of one beautifully furnished room to another, in irrepressible restlessness, and a presentiment of worse things to come than he had yet suffered.

He had meant, when his unpacking was done, to dress and lunch in the restaurant, whose fame had reached even the dining-room of the Guard's Club. But that was before the Nightmare. Now he did not want to look at his fellow-beings or be looked at; and he pressed his electric bell viciously to order luncheon sent up.