Anthony Lyveden

“ And I shall make Valerie go, and—and I shall pray for you both."
Anthony slid off his hat and put her hand to his lips....
As he did so, the car sped past a red lodge and into a curling drive.
Lady Touchstone sought for a pocket-handkerchief.
"There's a tear on my nose," she explained. "I can feel it. It's a real compliment, Anthony Lyveden. You're the very first man that's ever made Harriet Touchstone cry." ”

“ If Betty had indeed affirmed that the housework to be done at The Shrubbery was nothing, she was guilty of hyperbole. All the same, the house was an easy one, and such labour as its upkeep entailed melted, beneath the perfectly organized attention of herself, Anne, and Lyveden, as snow beneath the midday sun. The three had more legitimate leisure than any three servants in England, and no residence in Europe was better kept. Mr. and Mrs. Bumble, of course, were in clover. It followed that Anthony Lyveden had much time to himself. ”

“ As a living-room it left much to be desired; but, since Major Anthony Lyveden did not live in it, that did not trouble him. He used the room, certainly—he was using it now; nightly he slept above it—but he lived in the open air.
This was patent from the look of him.
Wind, rain, and sun set upon their favourites a mark which there is no mistaking. Under the treatment of these three bluff specialists the handsome face had in a short month become a picture. In all his life the ex-officer had never looked so well. ”

“ It's bad for my heart. Oh, dear. How fast George is driving! We shall be at Bell Hammer before we know where we are." Suddenly she leaned forward and caught at the footman's sleeve. "Anthony Lyveden, I've shown you my hand. As you love my niece, what is the trouble?"
Anthony set his teeth.
"Can't be done," he said, "Lady Touchstone. We've got to work it out for ourselves." ”

“ Here he was on his way to Hampshire, in response to a cry so instant that he had set everything on one side, and now, however sore her need of him, his niece, Miss Valerie French, would have to wait. Blood might be thicker than water, but the poor pinched ghost that had been knocking so long upon his door took vaulting precedence of any flesh and blood. In the good man's eyes this stranger, Anthony Lyveden, had earned and must be accorded the privileges of the dead. ”

“ Mercifully Patch could not understand....
A mile and a half from the station, the Dogs' Home stood in a pleasant place under the lee of a wood. Fair meadows ringed it about, and in the bright sunshine the red-brick house and out-buildings looked cheerful and promising.
Slowly the two passed up the well-kept drive.
With his little white dog in his arms, Anthony Lyveden was shown everything. A jolly fair-haired girl—the superintendent—conducted him everywhere. The dogs—all sizes and shapes—welcomed her coming. Of Patch she made a great deal.
"You must be very proud of him," she said to Anthony. ”

“ With Patch under his arm, he spoke to the fair-haired girl in charge of the office.
"I've seen a dog out there that I recognize—an Irish terrier. He's not very well, your man said. May I know whose he is?"
"Oh, yes. He belongs to Miss French—Miss Valerie French. He's a nice little dog, isn't he?"
If Anthony Lyveden had reflected, it would have occurred to him that his informant had been, as they say, "very quick in the uptake." The truth was that less than a week ago Miss Valerie French had recognized Patch and had asked the same girl for the name of his owner.
"He's a beauty," said Anthony. ”

“ DEAR SIR GILES, Major Lyveden continues mercifully to make good progress.
I saw him myself yesterday for the first time, and must make haste to confess that I am overjoyed. When I say this, you will understand that he is not only the stranger whom we are helping to the acquisition of a great fortune, but the man whom my niece is delighting to honour. Lyveden is a man of great personal charm and fine character, and I am sure that he will administer his heritage wisely and faithfully, and that he will make Valerie a proud and happy woman. ”

“ Down through a grey beechwood, over a teeming brook, into a sodden drift of leaves, up through a welter of bracken, on to the silence of pine-needles, over the top of the ridge into the cursed undergrowth again, panting, straining, sobbing for breath, his temples bursting, his hands and arms bleeding, unutterable agony in his side, Lyveden tore like a madman. ”

“ She can remember every look those steady grey eyes of Lyveden's have ever given her, and in the last two hours she has remembered them all. Inch by inch she has gone over the playground of their hearts: word by word she has recited their conversations: she has gathered great posies of dead blossoms, because they once smelled so sweet: she has trodden the lanes of Memory to her most grievous wounding, because they are still so dear....
Then there were other times, when Pride had her in a strait-jacket, and the very thought of Anthony made her eyes blaze. ”

“ The more Monseigneur Forest thought upon the matter, so suddenly thrust smoking before him, the more uneasy he became. The kindest of men, he found the picture of the poor legatee fighting for existence when, but for another's remissness, he would have had a goodly heritage, inexpressibly distressing. Indeed, could he have started for Rome that night he would have done so. But for the knowledge that he was about to do all in his power to rectify the wrong, he could not have slept. As it was, the reflection that Anthony Lyveden had yet to be found worried him greatly. ”

“ Anthony shut the door and put the terrier down. The latter ran to the lady and sniffed the hem of her garments. After a careful scrutiny he turned away....
"It's not a night," said Anthony, "to be walking the countryside in evening dress. Have you had a breakdown?"
"Not that I know of," replied Miss Strongi'th'arm. "Don't be so modest. I happened to be passing and I happened to see your light, so I thought I'd come and see how Adam was getting on. Is it against the rules?"
"I'm all alone," said Lyveden steadily. ”

“ That footman was a gentleman born. Moreover, he was down on his luck. He didn't look like a fellow who'd run through money, and I think the old testator was pretty rich. He gave that impression. And for a will made in such circumstances to go astray it would be easy enough—obviously. The devil of it is, except for the name of Lyveden, I can remember nothing else."
The solicitor sipped his port. Then—
"A search at Somerset House," he said slowly, "should give us the maiden surname of Anthony Lyveden's mother. If she had a brother...."
Sir Giles Molehill raised his eyes and sighed. ”

“ That the household was once more without a footman was a hard fact. Major Anthony Lyveden, D.S.O., was gone. His period of service at The Shrubbery had come to an abrupt end upon the previous day. His notice had not expired, but when he received an offer which was conditional upon his immediate departure from Hawthorne, he had laid the facts before Mr. Bumble and left two days later. All efforts to persuade him to leave an address were unavailing. ”

“ So Jack and Jill passed with full hearts by yellow lanes into the red-gold woods, and presently along a bridle-path that curled mysteriously into a great sunlit shoulder of forest, where the driven leaves fussed over their footsteps, and the miniature roar of a toy waterfall strove to make itself heard above the swish and crackle of the carpet the trees had laid.
"I'll tell you one thing I've learned," said Lyveden.
"What?" said Valerie.
"That what you do doesn't matter half as much as who you do it with. I found that out in the Army. The work didn't matter. ”

“ Anthony covered the distance between the station and the Dogs' Home at a good round pace. In fact, he was somewhat out of breath when a maid admitted him to the house and, leaving him in the hall, went in search of the superintendent.
As the fair-haired girl made her appearance, his heart began to beat furiously.
"How's my little dog?" he said jerkily.
The girl looked grave.
"I'm afraid he's pretty bad, Mr. Lyveden. He's naturally very strong, and we hope that'll pull him through. We ought to know one way or the other within twelve hours."
"I see," said Anthony dully. ”

“ His fingers closed about hers.
"You never came here as a footman," said the girl. "You came as my beloved. You went out of the garden of The Leather Bottel that very first day—my lord. What does it matter what else you were—are—will be? Oh, Anthony, you dear, honourable child...."
With his disengaged hand Lyveden covered his eyes.
"I meant to be so strong," he said humbly. "God forgive me, I'm very weak. You see—I love you so." His head bowed, he took hold of her other hand. "My lady, my beautiful lady, will you marry this lover of yours—this irresolute child?"
"Yes," said Valerie, "I will." ”

“ Cost what it might, Anthony determined to pluck the promise of the afternoon with an unsparing hand.
He had walked in the direction of Bell Hammer for the same reason that had caused Valerie French to bend her young steps towards Hawthorne. Each drew the other magnetically. It was not at all strange, therefore, that they should have met. Neither, since the attraction was mutual, is it surprising that the effect of each other's company was exhilarating to a degree. Together, they were at the very top of their bent. If the man trod upon air, the maid was glowing. ”

“ As if by way of comment, the horse snorted, and Anthony found himself joining in Miss Strongi'th'arm's mirth.
"There's hope for you yet," gurgled that lady. "Your sense of humour is still kicking. And that under the mud appears to be a scrap of a dog. When you take your final vows, will you give him to me?"
"In my monastery," said Lyveden, "monks are allowed to keep dogs.
There is also no rule against laughter."
"Isn't there, now?" flashed André. "I wonder why? There's no rule against idleness either, is there?" She laughed bitterly. "Rules are made to cope with inclinations. ”

“ Yet, of the two, her plight was less evil. Each of them had dropped in their tracks, which is to say that, while Lyveden had fallen upon the rough ground of bare existence. Miss French had fallen into the lap of luxury.
I am prepared to be told that this should have made no difference—that creature comforts cannot minister to a broken heart. But, sirs, the flesh and the spirit are thicker than that. The iron must have entered uncommon deep into the soul for the body no longer to care whether the bath-water run hot or cold. ”

“ It was she—Valerie French—that had wrought the havoc. That cord and bowl were the property as much of Anthony as of her had not weighed with the lady. As if this were not enough, he was to be used like a leper.... What had he to do with peace?
The thought that he had been able to pick up the glove she had thrown down with such a flourish elated him strangely. To kiss My Lady Disdain upon the mouth—that was an answer. That would teach her to draw upon an unarmed man. For she had thought him weaponless. What footman carries a sword? ”

“ And Patch was in clover. Anthony reflected that he had much to be thankful for. A dinner of herbs was infinitely better than none at all. He was, you observe, unconsciously converting the proverb to his own use. Stalled oxen, with or without hatred, were not nowadays in his line. He had quite forgotten what they were like, and cared as little. Indeed, but for Valerie, his Ambition would have been dead. Even now it lay very sick. High stomachs are easily upset. But a nodding acquaintance with Hunger will make Ambition turn her face to the wall. ”

“ You are tall, aren't you? You're all tall here to-night, except me. It makes me feel a dwarf."
"And us, ogres," said Anthony.
Jill laughed delightedly.
"You are nice," she said. "Valerie said you were. Look at Berry dancing with Daphne, and pretending he's bored stiff. When are you coming to White Ladies?"
She prattled on contentedly, asking questions innumerable, but requiring no answers.
Lyveden enjoyed himself.
After they had sat out a little, Valerie came towards them with the man called Jonah.
"Since you won't ask me," she said to Anthony, "I must throw myself at your head." ”

“ Listen to me. My mother doesn't approve of servants who stay out all night—even if they are gentlemen. I'll bet you're ready to pitch a hell of a tale, but it's no good, Lyveden. D'you hear? It's no good. You see, I answered the telephone on Friday, when your lady-friend rang up about the dog.... I know that dog, Lyveden, I've had one myself. And, what's more, I happened to be at Marylebone this morning.... Yes. That was a bit of bad luck, wasn't it? So next time you want a week-end——"
Anthony hit him full on the mouth. ”

“ Dear Sir,
We have reason to believe that a gentleman of the name of "Anthony Lyveden" is residing in your neighbourhood. We are anxious to obtain his address in order that we may make to him a communication of the highest importance, and one which it will be to his great financial advantage to receive. ”

“ Five minutes later, toothless, half-dressed and trembling, she thrust a few things into a dressing-case, struggled into a fur coat, and passed with sagging knees downstairs, clinging to the arm of a bully whom she had known as a worm.
Lyveden was waiting in the hall, beside him his case and hold-all—what belongings he had thrust into them anyhow. He was intending to see the couple into the cab and then go quietly away, for he was determined to avoid the loathsome saturnalia with which his colleagues were certain to signalize the débâcle. When the two appeared, he started involuntarily. ”