Prudence might retire into the background; Robin had the situation well in hand. She sat down on the window seat, and was at leisure to admire her brother’s adroitness. For some reason he seemed bent upon the captivation of Sir Humphrey. Prudence could guess the reason. Faith, more complications brewing. But it was unseemly again that Robin should ogle so elderly a gentleman. Lord, what a clever tongue the child had!
Indeed, talk ran merrily between the two in the middle of the room. Robin seemed to have the knack of inducing a stiff-necked sire to unbend. Within ten minutes he might count Sir Humphrey very much his friend, and dare even to touch lightly on the subject of Miss Letitia’s indiscretion. There came no rebuff: only a word or two sufficient to show the worried state of Sir Humphrey’s mind.
Robin put by the fan of painted chicken-skin. With a pretty air of coaxing and of deference he cooed softly: “An impertinence in me to speak of the matter at all, dear Sir Humphrey. Forgive me!” He was assured of Sir Humphrey’s forgiveness, nay, more, of his attention. “Well, well!” Madam Kate smiled confidentially upon him. “I own to some few years more than the child can boast, I believe. Perhaps I may whisper a word or two.”
Sir Humphrey begged the favour of Miss Merriot’s advice. Prudence, by the window, was forgot. There was no doing anything; she could but sit by while Robin became as outrageous as the fit prompted him. Lud, but they were plunging deeper and deeper into the morass!
Robin was dropping dulcet words of advice into a father’s ear. Let him not coop Miss Letty up so close; sure, it was a high-spirited child only in need of a little amusement. Too young?—Oh, fie, never think it! Take her out into the world; let her make her curtsey to Society. By no means take her back to Gloucestershire; that were fatal. So it went on somewhat to Prudence’s amusement. Robin had a mind to pursue the acquaintance, then? Snared by a pair of pansy-brown eyes, ecod!
The amusement fled before the next words. Sir Humphrey made bold to solicit Miss Merriot’s kindness for his daughter. His sister was, perhaps, not an enlivening companion for so frivolous a child as his Letitia. He should think himself more than ever in her debt if Miss Merriot would take Letty a little under her wing.
“Now how to escape that?” thought Prudence.
But it seemed that Robin had no desire to escape the imposition. There were professions of the utmost willingness; he pledged himself to wait upon Miss Grayson the very next day.
“The rogue!” thought Prudence, and said it aloud as soon as Sir Humphrey had taken his ceremonious leave of them.
Robin laughed, and dropped a mock curtsey. Surely the devil was in the boy today.
“Lord, child, let us be serious. What are you pledged to now?”
“To be a friend to the little dark beauty. I’m all alacrity.”
“It’s evident.” His sister spoke dryly. “I believe it won’t serve, Robin.”
Robin raised one mobile eyebrow. “What’s this? You’ve nervous qualms, my Peter? Faith, I thought there were no nerves in you. I stand in no danger of discovery that I can see.”
“None, child. You’re incomparable,” Prudence said frankly. “You’ve more female graces than ever I could lay claim to, even in my rightful petticoats. I believe my sense of propriety is offended.”
Came a flash into the blue eyes, and a head thrown up a little. “Oh, do you doubt me? Merci du compliment!”
Prudence was unmoved. “Ay, that’s the old gentleman in you. It’s a fine gesture.”
The chin came down; the mouth tightened a moment, then relaxed into a laugh. “You’d enrage a saint, Prue. Well, let us have it.”
Memories of the night’s reflections chased one another across Prudence’s mind. “It’s trickery. You become an impostor.”
“I became one when I entered first into these damned uncomfortable clothes, child. Are you answered?”
Impossible to put those hazy ideas into verbal form. “I suppose so,” said Prudence slowly. “Do you know, I begin to dislike myself?”
Robin looked at her, then put an arm about her waist. “Well, say the word. I’ll take you to France, and we’ll ha’ done with all this.”
“You’re a dear, Robin. No, I chose this road, and we’ll stay.”
“I’ve a notion it may lead to some end. Play it out, my dear. Trickery it is, but we harm none.” Prudence looked sceptical. “Oh, you are thinking of the Grayson child! Never doubt me.”
“I don’t doubt you. But she thinks you are a woman, and there are things she may say you should not be hearing.”
“Do you think I cannot stop her? ’Tis I shall lead the talk. Be at rest, Prue.”
“And if she discovers the truth?”
“I don’t fear that.”
There seemed no more to be said. “We brave it to the end, then. Well, I’m content.”
VI
The Polite World Receives Mr. and Miss Merriot
My Lady Lowestoft made no idle boast when she declared that all the world might be seen at her rout that evening. The world, as she knew it, was the Polite Society of the day; and Polite Society chose to venerate her ladyship. She had the felicity of seeing her salons filled to overflowing. Downstairs there were refreshments laid out in the dining-room; angel cakes, and ratafie; strange French concoctions and some of the late Sir Roger’s best Burgundy; sweetmeats of every known variety and French champagne, sparkling in the glasses, to go with them. There was a card-room also, spacious enough to hold some few tables with comfort. Those who wished might escape from the chatter and
