The magistrate snorted, jerked a bow, and took himself off.

“My reputation! oh, my reputation!” mourned Sir Richard. “Horrible and unprincipled brat, why the owl?”

“Well, I had to say something!” Pen pointed out.

“I am afraid,” said Piers, conscience-stricken, “that it is a little Lydia’s fault. But indeed, sir, she meant no harm!”

“I know,” said Sir Richard. “She is so impulsive! I feel a hundred years old.”

He went out on the words, and Pen at once rounded on Mr Luttrell, saying in accusing accents: “There! You see now what your precious Lydia has done!”

“She is no worse than you are! In fact, not as bad!” retorted Piers. “She would not masquerade about the country as a boy! I do not wonder at Sir Richard’s feeling a hundred years old. If I were betrothed to you, I should feel the same!”

Miss Creed’s eyes flashed. “Well, I will tell you something, Piers Luttrell! I have got a cousin with a face like a fish, and he wants to marry me, which is why I escaped out a window. But—do you hear me?—I would a great deal rather marry him than you. If I had to marry you, I would drown myself! You are stupid, and rude, and spiritless!”

“Merely because I have a little common sense,” began Piers, very stiff, and rather flushed.

He was interrupted. A waiter came in with the news that a Young Person desired instant speech with Mr Wyndham.

Correctly divining this mythical being to be herself, Pen said: “What can that nonsensical girl want now? I wish I had never come to Queen Charlton! Oh, very well! Show the young person in!”

“Good God, can it be Lydia?” exclaimed Piers, when the waiter had withdrawn.

The young person was not Miss Daubenay, but her personal maid, a rosy damsel, who appeared to be strongly imbued with her mistress’s romantic ideals. She came in heavily veiled, and presented Pen with a sealed letter. While Pen tore it open, and read its agitated message, Piers besieged the girl with urgent questions, to which, however, she only replied with evasive answers, punctuated by giggles.

“Good gracious!” exclaimed Pen, deciphering Miss Daubenay’s scrawl. “Matters are now desperate! She says she will elope with you.”

“What?” Piers abandoned the servant, and strode to Pen’s side. “Here, give it to me!”

Pen warded him off. “She says they are going to send her to the Wilds of Lincolnshire.”

“Yes, yes, that is where her grandmother lives! When does she go?”

“I can’t read it—oh yes, I see! To-morrow morning, with her Papa. She says I am to tell you to arrange for the elopement this evening, without fail.”

“Good God!” Piers snatched the letter from her, and read it for himself. “Yes, you are right: she does say tomorrow morning! Pen, if she goes, it will be the end of everything! I never meant to do anything so improper as to elope with her, but I have now no choice! It is not as though her parents disapprove of me, or—or that I am not eligible. If that were so, it would be different. But until they quarrelled—however, talking is to no purpose!” He turned to the maidservant, who had by this time put back her veil, and was listening to him with her mouth open. “Are you in your mistress’s confidence?” he demanded.

“Oh yes, sir!” she assured him, adding with another giggle: “Though the master would tear me limb from limb if he knew I was taking letters to you, sir.”

Piers ignored this somewhat exaggerated statement. “Tell me, is your mistress indeed resolved upon this course?”

“Oh!” said the damsel, clasping her plump hands together, “she was never more resolved in her life, sir! “I must Fly!” she says to me, clean distracted. “Lucy,” she says, “I am Utterly Undone, for All is Discovered!” So I popped on my bonnet, sir, and slipped out when Cook’s back was turned, “for,” says my poor young mistress, with tears standing in her eyes fit to break anyone’s heart, “if I am whisked off to Lincolnshire, I shall die!” And so she will sir, no question!”

Pen sat down again, hugging her knees. “Nothing could be better!” she declared. “I always liked the notion of your eloping to Gretna Green. In fact, it was my suggestion. Only, Lydia told me that you have no money, Piers. Shall we make Richard pay for the post-chaise?”

“Certainly not!” he replied. “Of course I have enough money for that!”

“I think you ought to have four horses,” she warned him. “Posting charges are very high, you know.”

“Good God, Pen, I’m not penniless! Lydia meant only that I am dependent upon my father. If he refuses to forgive us, I shall be obliged to find some genteel occupation, but I am persuaded that once the deed is done he will very soon come round. Oh, Pen! is she not an angel? I am quite overcome! Is it not affecting that she should trust me so implicitly?”

Pen opened her eyes at this. “Why shouldn’t she?” she asked, surprised.

“Why shouldn’t she? Really, Pen, you don’t understand in the least! Think of her placing her life, honour, all, in my care!”

“I don’t see anything wonderful in that,” replied Pen contemptuously. “I think it would be a great deal more extraordinary if she didn’t trust you.”

“I remember now that you never had much sensibility,” said Piers. “You are such a child!” He turned again to the interested abigail. “Now, Lucy, attend to me! You must take a letter back to your mistress, and assure her besides that I shall not fail. Are you prepared to accompany us to Scotland?”

She gaped at him for a moment, but however strange the idea might have been to her it apparently pleased her, for she nodded vehemently, and said: “Oh yes, sir, thank you, sir!”

“Who ever heard of taking a maid on an elopement?” demanded Pen.

“I will not ask Lydia to fly with me without some female to go with her!” declared Piers nobly.

“Dear me, I should think she would wish the girl at Jericho!”

“Lydia is quite unused to waiting upon herself,” said Piers. “Moreover, the presence of her maid must lend respectability to our flight.”

“Has she a little lap-dog she would like to take with her too?” asked Pen innocently.

Piers cast her a quelling look, and stalked across the room to a small writing-table near the window. After testing the pen that lay on it, mending it, and dipping it in the standish, he then sat while the ink dried on it, frowning over what he should write to his betrothed. Finally, he dipped the pen in the standish once more, and began to write, punctuating his labour with reminders to Lucy to see that her mistress had a warm cloak, and did not bring too many bandboxes with her.

“Or the parrot,” interpolated Pen.

“Lor’, sir, Miss Lydia hasn’t got any parrot!”

“If you don’t hold your tongue, Pen—!”

“No little lap-dog either?” Pen asked incredulously.

“No, sir, “deed, no! There’s only her love-birds, the pretty things, and her doves!”

“Well, you will not have room in the chaise for a dovecot, but you should certainly bring the love-birds,” said Pen, with an irrepressible chuckle.

Piers flung down his pen. “Another word from you, and I’ll put you out of the room!”

“No, you won’t, because this is a private parlour, and you are nothing but a guest in it.”

“But will I tell Miss to bring the love-birds?” asked Lucy, puzzled.,

“No!” said Piers. “Oh, do stop, Pen! You are driving me distracted! Listen, I have told Lydia that I will have a chaise waiting in the lane behind the house at midnight. Do you think that is too early? Will her parents go to her room as late as that?”

“No, sir, that they won’t!” said Lucy. “The Major does be such a one for retiring early! He’ll be in bed and asleep by eleven, take my word for it, sir!”

“Fortunately, it is moonlight,” Piers said, shaking sand over his letter. “Listen, Lucy! I depend upon you to see that your mistress goes early to bed; she must get what sleep she can! And you must wake her at the proper time, do you understand? Can I trust you to pack for her, and to bring her safely to me?”

“Oh, yes, sir!” replied Lucy, bobbing a curtsey. “For I wouldn’t be left to face the Major, not for ever so!”

“You had best go back to the house with all possible speed,” Piers said, applying a wafer to the folded letter, and handing it to her. “Mind, now! that letter must not fall into the wrong hands!”

Вы читаете The Corinthian
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату