The Great Dives' Elopement

by Guy Boothby

THE GREAT DIVES’ ELOPEMENT.

By GUY BOOTHBY

 

 

If truly her you love, and she loves you,
But Death, sad sir, can plighted hearts undo.
True love sublime no obstacles appal,
And grim old Time pulls constant lovers through.
Who daring climb and much enduring crawl.
Never despair, let foul or fair befall.
All shall be well, if both your hearts be true,
For Love he mocks at locks and locksmiths all.

George John Cayley.

 

ONCE upon a time, in a certain Australian capital, there was a man who was a K.C.M.G., a member of the legislative council, a justice of the peace, a squatter, a merchant and a millionaire, all at one and the same time. His name was—well, we’ll say, for the purpose of this story, that his name was Dives—the Hon. Sir John Alexander Dives, K.C.M.G., J.P. He was universally respected, for his name was good at the foot of a bill for almost any amount you might like to name. But in his life he had made one serious mistake from which he was never able to recover. He allowed himself to be ruled body and soul by his wife, and as to the folly of that proceeding there is no necessity for me to speak.

Lady Dives was a leader of society, which means that she opened subscription lists with crushing munificence, and entertained on a scale which eclipsed even vice-royalty itself.

Years before, she had had the good fortune to do a kindness for a globe-trotting duchess, who in return presented her at Court, thus enabling her to achieve the first ambition of her life. Her second is what I propose to tell you about in this story.

Lady Dives had a daughter whom we in our shibboleth called the “Divinity.” She was a sweet girl, and had been brought up strictly under her mother’s eye, a fact which in itself was sufficient to guarantee her fit to become a king’s consort. But though she spoke five European languages like a native, and could ride, dance, sing, and play half a dozen instruments better than most professionals, she was not proud, but was as charming to impecunious bank clerks as to grandee aides-de-camp.

I believe she had a hazy notion that in the future she was intended to make a brilliant marriage at home; but at the time with which this narrative is concerned she was content to flirt her days away, as if she were only the daughter of a simple Government official. Not being of age she could not be expected to understand her good fortune in possessing such prospects as would enable her to become a peeress.

In order to facilitate his public duties Sir John employed as private secretary a most meritorious young man who signed his letters Charles Grenville Bassidge. This gentleman lived at Dives Park, and was brought into daily contact with his employer’s family. He was a good-looking, silent young English man of mysterious antecedents, who declined to talk of his past, and said he had come out to make his fortune; but as this is what every newcomer says, nobody gave him credit for originality. However he made a very good amanuensis.

In spite of his exemplary behaviour her ladyship regarded him with suspicious eyes. She saw that the “Divinity” favoured him greatly, and it was plain to all of us that he was more than a little in love with her. They played billiards together every evening, so what could one expect?

Now every mother knows that abrupt interference with lovers never did any good yet. Surely her ladyship must have been aware of this; but if so, why did she stop their intercourse so peremptorily? She might have foreseen the inevitable consequence. The young couple came to a mutual understanding, and henceforward held their meetings on the stairs, or behind the big olive trees in the garden.

Having grasped the enormity of their proceedings, Lady Dives lectured her daughter severely, while Sir John conveyed a delicate hint to his private secretary that it would be better perhaps if he were to devote himself more assiduously to his duties.

Then it came to passing notes at family prayers, arranging meetings in the orangery afterwards.

One day her ladyship’s maid, acting under instruction, followed them to their rendezvous, and on her return to the house revealed the purport of their conversation to her mistress. An awful scene followed, and next morning an advertisement appeared in the daily papers inviting applications for the position of private secretary and amanuensis to a member of Parliament, etc.

The night that Bassidge bade farewell to Dives’ Park the “Divinity” received a terrible wigging, and cried herself to sleep with a photo and bundle of billets-doux under her pillow. She asserted that “her Charley” was not a “pauper” and a “nobody,” and she said she “would rather die than give him up!”

The new secretary proved to be a little sandy-haired man, who wore spectacles, and confined his attention solely to his blue books, being wise enough to leave female society alone. Her ladyship satisfied herself that he was not dangerous, and for a month things went smoothly.

After the storm the “Divinity” fretted a little, and mooned her days away by the fountain in the shrubbery, she also went to her own room directly after dinner. Her mother said it was temper, and prophesied that she would get over it in a week, but there she was mistaken. It lasted till the girl was laid up with an attack of bronchitis, and something went wrong with the large Cupid and Psyche fountain on the south lawn. Workmen were called in to examine it, and poking about in the waste-pipe they came across a mass of wet correspondence, which was conveyed to headquarters and examined. The notes were all signed C. G. B., and were worded somewhat after this fashion—

 

“My Heart’s Darling,—Cruel, cruel girl! I rode out last night as usual and waited quite two hours for you at the gate. Were you ill that you did not come? I know you love me in spite of this cruel opposition. You do, darling, don’t you? So come out to-night and convince your true and faithful lover.

C. G. B.”

 

As soon as Lady Dives had mastered the contents of each document she remembered her daughter’s curious habit of retiring every evening, and realised that “the gate” referred to must he the wicket gate in the lane behind the house.

The “Divinity’s” bedroom was in a corridor, which possessed a door opening into the garden; so, putting two and two together, she interviewed that young lady. Moreover she locked the door at the end of the corridor at sundown every evening and kept the key in her own pocket. But love laughs at locksmiths, and after that the letters were hidden in a fresh place.

About this time to our amazement, Mr. C. G. Bassidge, who before had declined every invitation he received, suddenly became a great votary of fashion, religiously attending every society gathering in the hope, I suppose, of meeting with his lady love. The consequence was that Sir John, Lady and Miss Dives were invariably conspicuous by their absence. Every day the warfare grew more and more bitter, and we outsiders wondered how it all would end. As might be expected, public sympathy was entirely with the lovers, and to my knowledge Mr. Charles Grenville Bassidge had more than one offer of assistance.

At this juncture Sir John and his lady contemplated a master stroke, and announced their immediate departure in the Ormuz for England, in order, they said, that their daughter might be presented at the next Drawing-room.

A stroke of luck favoured the lovers, for just a week previous to the boat’s sailing Miss Dives came of age. Someone sent her an anonymous box of Neapolitan violets, and I believe she valued it more than all the costly presents of her family, inasmuch as within the bunch was a tiny note, on the contents of which she acted.

Bassidge had given no trouble for nearly a fortnight, and her ladyship began to flatter herself that she had, at last, defeated him. I must leave you to judge whether or not such was the case.

In view of their trip to England, the “Divinity” had ordered a travelling dress of superlative texture and neatness, and in order that it might fit as never dress fitted before it was necessary that she should have it most carefully tried on.

For this purpose, on the morning following her birthday, she drove to her tailor’s place of business, and after instructing the coachman to keep the horses moving, entered the shop.

The dress having been fitted to her satisfaction, she watched her opportunity, and, as the carriage was going up the street, she strolled quietly out of the shop and down the pavement in the opposite direction.

On reaching the General Post Office she chanced upon Mr. Bassidge, and after a moment’s conversation they entered a hansom together and drove rapidly away.

Her own coachman moved up and down till sundown, and then went home to report the curious behaviour of his young mistress. He received his discharge upon the spot, and has been wondering the reason why ever since.

Lady Dives was beside herself with rage, consequently Sir John was furious, and a penitent note which arrived next morning, signed “Gwendoline Bassidge," only made them the more vehemently declare that neither she nor her pauper husband should ever set foot within their doors again.

This was of course very unpleasant for the “Divinity,” for, in spite of their cruel opposition, she was really very fond of her parents. At the same time she was quite convinced that her Charley was the best, the cleverest, the handsomest, as well as the wisest man in existence, and had only to be known to be appreciated by everyone.

That young gentleman, though perfectly aware that he was many degrees removed from what she thought him, began to look upon himself as rather a fine fellow. He was also quite sure that he had a scheme which would bring the old people to their senses in no time, when he so desired. His past was going to prove useful after all. However he was wise enough not to let his wife into the secret just then.

They spent their honeymoon at Largs Bay, and their affection was strong enough to colour even those awful sandhills the loveliest of rosy hues.

On Tuesday the Ormuz steamed up to the anchorage, and early on Wednesday the young couple boarded her for England. They lay concealed all the morning in their cabin, and during that time Bassidge told his wife his secret.

An hour before sailing Sir John and Lady Dives came on board, and at one o’clock the vessel weighed anchor and steamed down the gulf.

Lady Dives, after inspecting her cabin, examined the passenger list. Something she saw there must have pleased her, for she closed her pince-nez and took her husband’s arm, murmuring, “Really, how very pleasant!” Then they strolled down the promenade deck together, and turning the (corner of the smoking-room were confronted by the two delinquents.

The “Divinity” looked surpassingly sweet in a white costume, fastened at the waist with a broad antique-silver buckle, a large white hat and the daintiest of tan shoes imaginable. Even the graceless Bassidge looked the picture of honest English manliness.

The elder couple stood paralysed with rage and astonishment. All things considered it was really a most awkward meeting, fortunately however no other passengers were present.

Lady Dives was the first to recover, and she addressed herself to her daughter—

“Oh, you wicked, wicked girl,” she said, “how dare you come on board this ship—how dare you play us this trick?”

The Graceless One interposed, and raising his hat politely to his mother-in-law, answered for his wife.

“Pardon me, Lady Dives,” he said, “but before you say anything further perhaps you will allow me to introduce you to my wife!” Then, bowing with the air of a court chamberlain, he continued, “Lady Dives—the Marchioness of Laverstock!”

“What!” cried his mother-in-law, stepping back as if thunderstruck. “What do you mean? Can this be true?

“Certainly, mamma,” answered her daughter, “though I only knew it myself this morning. Charley came to Australia because he was too poor to live in England, and rather than win his way by means of his title, he dropped it, and was only known to us by his family name. A month ago he came into a lot of money, and now we’re going home to revive the glories of the house.”

I must leave you to imagine her ladyship’s surrender. Sir John’s of course doesn’t count.

Last week Lady Dives assured me in confidence that Sir John had altered his will in favour of “My son-in-law, the most noble the Marquis of Laverstock.” I’m told they’re a most united family now, but we can never forget how perilously near they once came to a serious breach.

Such is the true story of the “Great Dives’ Elopement.”