Henry Carruthers cried off. And the fine tiled roof? That was… let me see… ah, that was Mr. Tommy Bradshaw. The staircase was the Honorable Peter Chambers, but then he didn't have too much of the ready…”
“How many times has Miss Barchester been engaged?”
“'Bout four or five. M'wife'll put you straight.”
“But don't you see,” said Lord Arthur, appalled, “I cannot possibly bring myself to break the engagement now! After all these disappointments… I would feel like a monster.”
“Take Martha out for a little walk and have a talk to her,” said Mr. Barchester. “Martha's little talks always do the trick. You'll be back here like a rat up a spout, begging to give me those new stables.”
Lord Arthur was not able to say any more, for at that moment the door opened and Miss Barchester walked in, accompanied by her mother. She was wearing a severe walking dress of old-fashioned cut and a poke bonnet. She treated Lord Arthur to a cool smile.
“Off you go, Martha,” said her father heartily. “Bessamy here's come to take you for a little walk.”
As they made their way to Hyde Park, Lord Arthur had an odd feeling he was being followed. He turned around sharply several times, but the streets were very busy and no one appeared to be paying him any particular interest.
Martha was talking steadily in a level voice and at last he was able to take in what she was saying.
“When we are married, I should like to spend most of the year in town,” said Miss Barchester. “The ladies’ fashions are sadly skimpy, and fashion would have a new leader.”
“In yourself?” asked Lord Arthur, glancing down at her walking dress and wondering how she had managed to find material that was so drab, so mud-colored.
“Of course! And I am sure you will agree with me that marriages in which men spend all their time at their clubs end in disaster.”
“On the contrary, it might be the saving of many.”
“You are funning, of course. I have not told you before, Lord Arthur, but there is a certain levity about you which must be curbed.”
Lord Arthur stopped listening to her, saving all his energies for the scene he knew must surely break about his head when he told her he no longer wished to marry her.
How could he have ever for a moment thought she might make a suitable wife? Well, she had seemed so calm, so docile, so biddable.
He led her to an iron bench by the Serpentine and dusted it before they sat down. There was a crackling and a rustling in the bushes behind him, and Miss Barchester looked around nervously.
“Probably a dog,” said Lord Arthur.
Mr. Palfrey scrunched down in the bushes and strained his ears.
In a flat voice, Lord Arthur proceeded to tell Miss Barchester that he wished to terminate their engagement.
She heard him in silence and then said, “You will soon come to your senses. In any case, I refuse to release you.”
“Even when you know this marriage would now make me unhappy?”
“Although you are not a young man,” said Miss Barchester coyly, “I fear the company of a certain princess has turned your head. Now, do be sensible. I am sure you do not want a scandal. Gentlemen are like little boys. They never seem to know their own minds-which is why we ladies must make the decisions for them. Don't be silly, Lord Arthur. We are going to be married, and you have nothing to say in the matter.”
“Madam! You have just persuaded me to go to any lengths to be free of you. Come, I shall escort you back to your parents.”
“I prefer to stay here. It is pleasant.”
“Then, stay by yourself,” said Lord Arthur wrathfully, and, getting to his feet, he strode off.
He went straight back to the Crillon, up the stairs, and into the drawing room.
Mr. Barchester rubbed his chubby hands when he saw his face. “Have some more wine, dear boy!” he cried. “And let us discuss the new stables.”
Miss Barchester screamed as a dandified, middle-aged man crashed out of the bushes behind her.
“Hush, dear lady,” he said. “I am here to help you. Lord Arthur Bessamy was at the opera t'other night with a young lady calling herself Princess Felicity of Brasnia.”
The scream for help died stillborn on Miss Barchester's thin lips.
“Who are you?” she demanded sharply.
Mr. Palfrey came around and sat down beside her. “Let me explain…” he began.
Chapter Nine
“Do you know,” said Dolph, as he and Lord Arthur bowled along the Brighton Road, “I met an old tutor of mine from Oxford. Asked him about Brasnia and he said he had never heard of it.”
“Odd, the ignorance of some of those Oxford dons,” said Lord Arthur. “Come to think of it, it's quite disgraceful.”
“But he's a clever chap. Everybody says so. Now,
“It is up near the Arctic Circle,” said Lord Arthur. “Quite a small country, very savage, full of polar bears and…”
“What kind of bears?”
“White. All over. So that they can hide themselves in the snow. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the inhabitants live in mansions carved out of ice in the winter, and, in the summer, they live in tents made out of reindeer skin.”
“But don't they have cities… towns? I mean doesn't the princess have a castle?”
“Of course she does. A white castle with long, glittering icicles hanging from the towers. It was built in the thirteenth century by Georgi the Horrible. He kept four maidens locked up at one time, which is why the castle has four tall towers. When he had… er… had his way with them, he fed them to his pet bears.”
“The white ones?” said Dolph suspiciously.
“Except when they fed on the maidens. Then they turned a delicate, rosy pink.”
“They must be very well-educated people. I mean, Miss Chubiski speaks English very well.”
“Yes, she does, doesn't she. Alas, it is only the aristocracy who can enjoy the benefits of education. There is no middle class-only aristocracy and peasants. The peasants are illiterate to a man.”
“Look here, don't tell me the shopkeepers are all aristocrats. How do they keep the books?”
“They don't. The price of each article is indicated by so many stamps of the foot, rather like that educated pig at Bartholomew Fair.”
“What if something cost a hundred guineas? The shopkeeper would have a sore foot before he got the price out. And what about pounds, shillings, and pence?”
“My dear, dear Dolph, Nothing so complicated. It is a very poor country, so they don't have anything at all that costs over the equivalent of one pound. They have only a small coin called a secrudo, made of tin.”
“Why do I get the feeling you're talking rubbish?” said Dolph. “Go on. Tell me about the ruler.”
“The king is…”
“Now, wait a minute, you told Prinny that Brasnia was a principality.”
“So I did, and I made the whole thing up then. Now you are hearing the real truth. King Georgi the Fourth, is Princess Felicity's uncle. He poisoned his queen because he wanted to keep up the family tradition of incarcerating maidens in the four towers and subsequently feeding them to the bears. He… Dolph, this is all very interesting, and you keep twisting your head about.”
“Well, it's a funny thing, but I was getting a nasty, prickling feeling in the back of my neck. I thought it was because you were prosing on about maidens being fed to bears. But I turned about and took a glance down the road behind. There's a traveling carriage, and as I looked, a head popped out the window and the passenger yelled something to the driver. I only caught a glimpse, but it looked horribly like that Mr. Palfrey.”
“More than likely. I was unfortunate enough to meet him at the opera last night. We'll shake him loose. Long
