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When perhaps two miles from Sundridge, the day being warm, I climbed to a ledge of rock on the shelving bank of the bourne, twelve or fifteen feet above the path, and sat down to rest in the cool shade of a clump of bushes.
There was, however, this difference between George and his friends: he was gentlemanly picturesque in wickedness; they were nauseous in the filthiness of vice. After I became a suitor for the hand of George Hamilton's sister, I had closed my eyes to his shortcomings and, for some time prior to my Sundridge visit, had sought to further my cause with her by winning her brother's help.
I was touched by the new light in which I saw him and took his arm in friendliness as I said, "I judged you wrongfully at Sundridge." "You were right," he answered impatiently. "You awakened in me not only a sense of my duty to Frances, but a knowledge of my obligation to myself." "But are you so sure of my cousin, even barring other men?" I asked, hoping to sow the seeds of doubt.
I came to tell you that I am not what you deem me; that if you had good reason to believe me pure when we met at Sundridge, you have the same reason now. I want to tell you that when I refused to recognize you on that awful day in the Old Swan, when you fought so bravely in my behalf, I thought you were guilty of Roger Wentworth's death." "No, no, I am not that bad," interrupted Hamilton.
I had seen George on several occasions after my return from Sundridge, and although he said little about himself, I knew from others that he was at least trying to quit his old way of life and to avoid his evil friends.
Soon the relation of my own love affair to that of my cousin Frances will be apparent. My second day at Sundridge was spent with my uncle and my cousins, Frances remaining at home with us.
Then I went back to London, and when next I saw my cousin it was in the shadow of a tragedy. My uncle's humble friend, Roger Wentworth, the leather merchant of Sundridge, had a brother living in London, who was also a leather merchant, Sir William Wentworth. He had been Lord Mayor at one time, and had been knighted by the king because of a loan made by the city to his Majesty.
And so it was that George Hamilton had troubles of his own in this respect. When he left Frances Jennings at Sundridge, he was aglow with good resolutions, all of which were to be put into immediate practice, and many of which he carried out in part by strong though spasmodic effort when he returned to court.
For the benefit of the curious in such matters we may mention that the Duke's titles are, by writ 1445, Baron Campbell; 1457, Earl of Argyll; 1570, Baron of Lorne; by Royal charter, 1701, Duke of Argyll; Marquis of Lorne and Kintyre; Earl of Campbell and Cowal; Viscount of Lochow and Glenila; Baron Inveraray, Mull, Morven, and Tory, in the Peerage of Scotland; 19th December, 1766, Baron Sundridge of Croombank; May 4, 1776, Baron Hamilton, in the Peerage of England; Hereditary Master of the Queen's Household; Keeper of Dunoon, Dunstaffnage, and Carrick Castles; Heritable Lord-Lieutenant of Argyllshire.
They had motored down to the Sundridge Park Links, and stayed afterwards to dine at the club-house, then back to Bloomsbury, and into the pretty sitting-room, where Dudley was not likely to appear until late, because he had gone to a theatre with Doris. And then forthe second time he had kissed her. But this was quite a different kiss.
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