Mr. Beaumaris’s lips twitched appreciatively. So the little Tallant had brothers, had she?
Lady Bridlington was looking bewildered, and her son disgusted. Lord Fleetwood, accepting Arabella’s unconsciously betrayed knowledge of boxing-cant without question, looked Jemmy over critically, and gave it as his opinion that the boy was not the right build for a bruiser.
“Of course not!” said Arabella. “Think, Jemmy! What could you do, do you suppose?”
The urchin reflected, while the company awaited his pleasure. “Sweep a crossing,” he pronounced at last. “I could ’old the genlemen’s ’orses, then.”
“Hold the gentlemen’s horses?” repeated Arabella. Her eye brightened. “Are you fond of horses, Jemmy?”
Jemmy nodded vigorously. Arabella looked round in triumph. “Then I know the very thing!” she said. “Particularly since it is you who are to take charge of him, Mr. Beaumaris!”
Mr. Beaumaris waited in deep foreboding for the blow to fall.
“He must learn to look after horses, and then, as soon as he is a little older, you may employ him as your Tiger!” said Arabella radiantly.
Mr. Beaumaris, whose views on the folly of entrusting blood-cattle to the guardianship of small boys were as unequivocal as they were well-known, replied without a tremor: “To be sure I may. The future now being provided for—”
“But you never drive with a Tiger up behind you!” exclaimed Lord Bridlington. “You have said I know not how many times—”
“I do wish, Bridlington, that you would refrain from interrupting with these senseless comments,” said Mr. Beaumaris.
“But that child is far too young to be a Tiger!” pointed out Lady Bridlington.
Arabella’s face fell. “Yes, he is,” she said regretfully. “Yet it would be the very thing for him, if only we knew what to do with him in the mean time!”
“I think,” said Mr. Beaumaris, “that in the meantime I had better convey him to my own house, and place him in the charge of my housekeeper, pending further discussion between us, Miss Tallant.”
He was rewarded with a glowing look. “I did not know you would be so kind!” said Arabella. “It is a splendid notion, for the poor little fellow needs plenty of good food, and I am sure he must get it in your house! Listen, Jemmy, you are to go with this gentleman, who is to be your new master, and be a good boy, and do as he bids you!”
Jemmy, clutching a fold of her dress was understood to say that he preferred to remain with her. She bent over him, patting his shoulder. “No, you cannot stay with me, my dear, and I am sure you would not like it half so well if you could, for you must know that he has a great many horses, and will very likely let you see them. Did you come here in your curricle, sir?” Mr. Beaumaris bowed. “Well, there, do you hear that, Jemmy?” said Arabella, in a heartening tone. “You are to drive away in a carnage, behind a pair of beautiful gray horses!”
“I am driving my chestnuts today,” said Mr. Beaumaris apologetically. “I am so sorry, but I feel I should perhaps mention it!”
“You did very right,” said Arabella approvingly. “One should never tell untruths to children! Chestnuts, Jemmy, glossy brown horses! How grand you will feel sitting up behind them!”
Apparently the urchin felt that there was much in what she said. He released her gown, and directed his sharp gaze upon his new owner. “Proper good ’uns?” he asked suspiciously.
“Proper good ’uns,” corroborated Mr. Beaumaris gravely.
Jemmy slid from the chair. “You ain’t slumming me? You won’t go a-givin’ of me back to ole Grimsby?”
“No, I won’t do that. Come and take a look at my horses!”
Jemmy hesitated, glancing up at Arabella, who at once took his hand, and said: “Yes, let us go and see them!”
When Jemmy beheld the equipage being led up and down the street, his eyes widened, and he drew a shuddering breath of ecstasy. “That’s a bang-up set-out, that is!” he said. “Will I drive them ’orses, guv’nor?”
“You will not,” said Mr. Beaumaris. “You may sit up beside me, however.”
“Yessir!” said Jemmy, recognizing the voice of authority.
“Up with you, then!” Mr. Beaumaris said, lifting him into the curricle. He turned, and found that Arabella was holding her hand out to him. He took it in his, and held it for a moment.
“I wish I might find the words to thank you!” she said. “You will let me know how he goes on.”
“You may rest easy on that head, Miss Tallant,” he said, bowing. He took the reins in his hand, and mounted into the carriage, and looked down maliciously at Lord Fleetwood, who had accompanied them out of the house, and was just taking his leave of Arabella. “Come, Charles!”
Lord Fleetwood started, and said hurriedly: “No, no, I’ll walk! No need to worry about me, my dear fellow!”
“Come, Charles!” repeated Mr. Beaumaris gently.
Lord Fleetwood, aware of Arabella’s eyes upon him, sighed, and said: “Oh, very well!” and climbed into the curricle, wedging Jemmy between himself and Mr. Beaumaris.
Mr. Beaumaris nodded to his gaping groom, and steadied the chestnuts as they sprang forward. “Coward,” he remarked.
“It ain’t that I’m a coward!” protested his lordship. “But we shall have all the fools in London staring after us! I can’t think what’s come over you, Robert! You’re never going to keep this brat in Mount Street! If it leaks out, and it’s bound to, I suppose you know everyone will think it’s a by-blow of yours?”
“The possibility had crossed my mind,” agreed Mr. Beaumaris. “I am sure I ought not to let it weigh with me: Miss Tallant certainly would not.”
“Well, damn it, I think that prosy fool, Bridlington, was right for once in his life! You’ve gone stark, staring mad!”
“Very true: I have known it this half-hour and more.”
Lord Fleetwood looked at him in some concern. “You know, Robert, if you’re not careful you’ll find yourself walking to the altar before you’re much older!” he said.
“No, she has the poorest opinion of me,” replied Mr. Beaumaris. “I perceive that my next step must be to pursue the individual known to us as ‘ole Grimsby’.”
“What?” gasped Fleetwood. “She never asked that of you!”
“No, but I feel she expects it of me.” He saw that the mention of the sweep’s name had made Jemmy look up at him in quick alarm, and said reassuringly: “No, I am not going to give you to him.”
“Robert, never in all the years I’ve known you have I seen you make such a cake of yourself!” said his friend, with brutal frankness. “First you let the little Tallant bamboozle you into saddling yourself with this horrid brat, and now you talk of meddling with a chimney-sweep! You! Why, it’s unheard of!”
“Yes, and, what is more, I have a shrewd suspicion that a benevolent career is going to prove extremely wearing,” said Mr. Beaumaris thoughtfully.
“I see what it is,” said Fleetwood, after regarding his profile for a few moments. “You’re so piqued she don’t favour you you’ll go to any lengths to fix your interest with the girl.”
“I will,” said Mr. Beaumaris cordially.
“Well, you’d better take care what you are about!” said his worldly-wise friend.
“I will,” said Mr. Beaumaris again.
Lord Fleetwood occupied himself during the rest of the short drive in delivering a severe lecture on the perfidy of those who, without having any serious intentions, attempted to cut out their friends with the season’s most notable catch, adding, for good measure, a lofty condemnation of hardened rakes who tried to deceive innocent country maidens.
Mr. Beaumaris listened to him with the utmost amiability, only interrupting to applaud this last flight of eloquence. “That’s very good, Charles,” he said approvingly. “Where did you pick it up?”
“Devil!” said his lordship, with feeling. “Well, I wash my hands of you—and I hope she will lead you a pretty dance!”
“I have a strong premonition,” replied Mr. Beaumaris, “that your hope is likely to be realized.”
Lord Fleetwood gave it up, and as Mr. Beaumaris saw no reason to take him into his confidence, what little time was left before Mount Street was reached was occupied in discussing the chances of the newest bruiser in his
