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Updated: June 5, 2025
No, Macartney, if ever he looked into himself, found nothing wrong there. He kept a wary eye through his masking-glass upon Urquhart's comings and goings. As far as he could ascertain he was rarely in London during June and early July. No doubt he wrote to Lucy; James was pretty sure of it; yet he could not stoop to examining envelopes, and had to leave that to Providence and herself.
His ordinary commendation was, "It's no that bad"; and his superlative was expressed in the daring concession, "Aye, it'll maybe dae, it micht be waur." So he followed the colonel about with disparaging comments that drove Coley to the verge of madness. When they came to the engine room, which was Urquhart's pride, the climax was reached.
He put his hand out and touched Urquhart's face with the back of it. "Let us leave it at this," he said; "we both love her. We are neither of us fit. She would have taken either of us. But I came first, and then came Lancelot and she loves the law. Put it no other way." "The law, the law!" said the fretful, smitten man. "The law of her nature," said James.
It is dangerous to tamper with so great a work, and he who does so runs a great risk of burning his fingers. England has been less daring, and her modesty and discretion have brought her success. But, before speaking of Urquhart's translation, it is but right to mention the English-French Dictionary of Randle Cotgrave, the first edition of which dates from 1611.
Urquhart's been very reasonable about this business of Lingen's. I had a little trouble, of course it's a lot of money, even for him. Oh, yes, I should go if I were you. Why, he might want me to go, you know which would bore me to extinction. But I know you like that sort of thing." He nodded at her. "Yes, I should go." She pouted, and showed storm in her eyes all for his benefit.
They went motoring in Italy for a month, and by the beginning of November were settled at Astleys. Astleys was in Berkshire, and was Urquhart's home. It was rather beautiful, as homes go, with a careless, prosperous grace about it at which Lucy laughed because it was so Urquhartesque. Almost at once they asked some people to stay there to help with the elections and the pheasant shooting.
And hence Peter, who lay and looked at Lord Hugh Urquhart's son with wide, bright eyes. With just such eyes only holding, let us hope, an adoration more masked Sylvia Hope had long ago looked at Lord Hugh, seeing him beautiful, delicately featured, pale, and fair of skin, built with a strong fineness, and smiling with pleasant eyes.
Before she had been exiled to China, Lady Urquhart's habit was to go to Paris twice each year to buy her hats and gowns, for she was always elegantly dressed, and she took care that her daughter should dress equally well. Indeed, the gown worn by Peggy that night was one of Worth's latest creations, and her cloak was an expensive one of the newest mode.
But other eyes, similarly occupied, were plainer to read. Jim Urquhart's, of course.
Many remarkable men have represented Stafford, some as remarkable for their talent as for their folly. Sheridan's most brilliant speeches, and Urquhart's most undeniable failures in the House of Commons, were both due to the borough of Stafford.
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