The Golden Three

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Text originally published in 1930 under the same title.

© Valmy Publishing 2017, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.

Publisher’s Note

Although in most cases we have retained the Author’s original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern reader’s benefit.

We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.

THE GOLDEN THREE

by

WILLIAM LE QUEUX

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Contents

TABLE OF CONTENTS 3

CHAPTER ONE 4

CHAPTER TWO 12

CHAPTER THREE 18

CHAPTER FOUR 24

CHAPTER FIVE 28

CHAPTER SIX 33

CHAPTER SEVEN 40

CHAPTER EIGHT 45

CHAPTER NINE 53

CHAPTER TEN 59

CHAPTER ELEVEN 63

CHAPTER TWELVE 70

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 74

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 80

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 87

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 93

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 98

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 103

CHAPTER NINETEEN 110

CHAPTER TWENTY 116

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 122

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 127

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 131

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 136

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 140

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 145

REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER 149

CHAPTER ONE

I WONDER who those distinguished-looking women are? Mother and daughter, obviously. By Jove, the girl’s a beauty."

These words were uttered in the lounge of the Royal Hotel at Dinard, one evening as the guests were assembled there just before the dinner-hour. And the man who uttered them was Teddy Tufton, a tall, fresh-complexioned young fellow, who held a minor post in our Foreign Office.

Haven’t an idea, returned his companion, a great chum, Captain Mannering, who had distinguished himself in the Great War, while his friend, being in the C3 category, had been helping to carry on the diplomatic business of his country. Swells, I should say. They both look thoroughbreds in their different styles.

A handsome-looking woman, somewhere in the region of the late thirties, was standing near them and overheard the brief conversation. Her name was Mrs. Hamilton-Evans, a widow supposed to have been left very comfortably off, a great traveler, and a thorough cosmopolitan. She moved, if not quite in the very highest society in London, in circles that plumed themselves considerably on their social importance. She had an enormous circle of acquaintances, she knew every corner of the Continent, and was at home in all the best hotels in Europe. Her intimates nicknamed her The Court Guide.

There was nothing insular or reserved about this much traveled lady. Teddy Tufton and his friend had only arrived yesterday and did not know a soul in the hotel. The average Englishwoman would have waited a day or two before she slid into acquaintance with them. Not so Mrs. Hamilton-Evans; her cosmopolitan experience always led her to break the ice at once, without any preliminary prospection.

She turned to the inquisitive Teddy with that genial smile which usually attracted strangers to her.

The elder of the two is Lady Inverlake, she explained. You have seen Lord Inverlake, of course?

Neither of the two young men being in very fashionable circles nor caring much about their social superiors, had ever seen the nobleman in question, but they did not admit the fact and allowed the lady to chatter blandly on.

He is one of the richest peers in England; town house in Grosvenor Square, three, or I believe four, places in different counties, a beautiful villa at Beaulieu near Nice, and a castle in the Highlands.

And the young lady is her daughter, there is an obvious resemblance? queried Captain Mannering of the voluble and exhaustive Court Guide.

Mrs. Hamilton-Evans took breath and proceeded to rattle out more information. Lady Ruby Sherston, the only daughter, the only child. The heir to the title, unless things happen which are not likely, such as a second marriage. The estates go with the title, and Lord Inverlake has enjoyed them for so many years that he will be able to leave his daughter a large sum with them. Not that it would matter much if he did not. At the age of twenty-one, and she is within a month or two of it, she will come into a considerable fortune from a godmother who died some years ago and left it tied up till she came of age.

Poor Teddy was not a brilliant talker, and was, moreover, afflicted with shyness in the presence of the fair sex; this voluble woman overwhelmed him. But Mannering had more brains than his friend, and was much more of a man of the world. Mrs. Hamilton-Evans amused him, he had met her type before in his travels.

He hastened to sustain the spirit of the conversation.

What a fortunate young lady! Needless to say she has all the world for a friend, and, of course, any amount of young men after her.

Mrs. Hamilton-Evans shrugged her shoulders—she was in evening toilet—which were very plump and white for a woman in the late thirties.

"Cela va sans dire. She was fond of interlarding her conversation with occasional scraps of French and other foreign tongues. They are round her like flies round a honey-pot. But in spite of her good fortune, she is a very unaffected girl, no side, no airs at all. Lady Inverlake is a charming woman, too, in a grande dame way. I must make you acquainted when I get the opportunity. With people in their position you have to bring about things in a diplomatic way; you can’t adopt rushing methods."

Certainly not, agreed Mannering with a great gravity, the rather affected gravity which often conceals a keen sense of humor. You can’t expect this sort of people to jump at the acquaintance of every Tom, Dick and Harry.

Mrs. Hamilton-Evans, on whom all forms of humor or mild sarcasm were lost, bestowed a beaming smile upon the two young men as she rustled away. They saw her stopping by group after group; she seemed to be on speaking terms with every man and woman in the place. After exchanging a few words with each, and bestowing a few of her ever-ready smiles, she finally came to anchor with the Inverlakes, whom she did not know in London, but with whom she had quickly picked up an acquaintance in the more free and easy atmosphere of the Dinard Hotel.

For the woman was a born climber. Descended from a younger branch of a very old family, she had married a man of no particular station. But thanks to her good looks, her genial manner, her gift of adroit flattery, her capacity to adapt herself to the personality of the individual she was cultivating, she had obtained an entrance into circles far beyond her early hopes or ambitions.

Sometimes she was almost astonished at her own success, although she was by no means troubled with undue modesty. There was the case of Lady Inverlake, for instance. Here was a woman, grande dame to her fingertips, reported to move in the most exclusive set in London, naturally, from her associations and environment, wary of the cosmopolitan birds of passage to be found in Continental hotels. From such an august personage one might have expected a civil good-morning, a non-committed sentence about the weather, when the ladies happened to run across each other in the hall or the lounge.

But before three days had elapsed, this adroit climber had burrowed her way into the good graces of the exclusive Countess. A random remark had shown that Lady Inverlake was passionately fond of dogs, of all animals, as a matter of fact, but she gave the preference to dogs for their attachment and devotion to their masters.

That hint was good enough for Mrs. Hamilton-Evans. In a twinkling she went into rhapsodies over dogs in particular, and she was ready to take the whole animal world to her gentle and susceptible bosom. These two ladies would talk for hours on the interesting topic, the Countess fondly relating anecdotes of the sagacity and beautiful nature of her pets. To all this, the sycophantic listener would incline a greedy ear, interjecting such appropriate comments as, the darling, how perfectly sweet, etc., etc.

This tactful handling of the animal creation went far to establish the climbing lady in the favor of the dog-loving peeress. She spoke of her to her daughter as a well-mannered, quite interesting woman, and had almost made up her mind to ask her to call upon her in London. To this Lady Ruby, who was a very practical girl, demurred, although she liked the woman well enough. Had they better not find out a little more about her first?

She is very agreeable, and all that, mother, concluded the daughter, who perhaps had a suspicion that Mrs. Hamilton-Evans was rather a subtle flatterer. But we really don’t know anything about her. I have never heard of any Hamilton-Evanses, nor, I suppose, have you?

No, the Countess had not heard of this distinguished family, and a double-barreled name, unless backed by unimpeachable credentials, is more apt to inspire suspicion than respect. Lady Inverlake promised not to act hastily.

A gleam of light was thrown upon the matter the next day by the lady herself. In one of those conversations which had now become frequent, Mrs. Hamilton-Evans, in relating a trivial anecdote of her youth, revealed that her maiden name was Cauldwell.

The Countess pricked up her ears. Any relation to the Cauldwells of Loamshire? she queried, as she exchanged a swift glance with her daughter.

The Cauldwells of Loamshire was one of those old and wealthy untitled families whose roots strike deeper into national history than those of nine-tenths of the Peerage.

My father was descended from a younger branch, the Protestant one, replied the fair descendant, and she was speaking the truth. As you know, the Loamshire Cauldwells are Roman Catholics, and never forgave the apostasy of their relatives.

All this was very gratifying. Not only was this chance hotel acquaintance a well-mannered, quite interesting woman, but what was even more to the purpose, she had gentle blood in her veins. Lady Ruby was quite satisfied, and before the day was out Mrs. Hamilton-Evans was invited to call at the Inverlake mansion in Grosvenor Square and listen to further installments of her aristocratic friend’s stories of the canine species.

Needless to say that the lady so honored was very much elated with her good fortune. Younger branches of ancient families are not at a great premium in the world of high society, and up to the present she had not found the name of Cauldwell of much benefit socially. What success she had achieved had been due to her own qualities of push and tact.

But this was the greatest coup she had ever brought off. Once get the entrée into Grosvenor Square, and a woman of her brains would soon make it a stepping-stone to other things.

Always hungrily seeking popularity, even amongst comparatively insignificant people, she was fond of bestowing small favors that really cost her nothing in the quite reasonable expectation that the recipients would sing her praises to others. With this object in view, she made an attempt to bring Teddy Tufton and his friend within the sacred circle. She did not make the stupid mistake of effecting a formal introduction, but tried to draw them into general conversation on an occasion when they were standing near together.