stables, where, for a wonder, he comports himself unexceptionably. Wrexham was so much impressed by finding him—er—hobnobbing with a bay stallion generally thought to be extremely dangerous, that he came up to represent to me the propriety of handing the boy over to him to train. He is a childless man, and since he expressed his willingness to house Jemmy, I thought it better to fall in with his schemes. I hardly think Jemmy’s language will shock him, and I am encouraged to hope, from what I know of Wrexham, that he will know how to keep the boy in order.”
Arabella approved so heartily of this arrangement, that he took the risk of saying in a melancholy tone: “Yes, but if it succeeds, I shall be at a loss to think of a pretext for getting you to drive out with me.”
“Dear me, have I shown myself so reluctant?” said Arabella, raising her eyebrows. “I wonder why you will talk so absurdly, Mr. Beaumaris? You may depend upon it that I shall take care to be seen every now and then in your company, for I cannot be so sure of my credits to run the risk of having it said that the Nonpareil has begun to find me a dead bore!”
“You stand in no such danger, Miss Tallant, believe me.” He drew in his horses for a sharp bend in the road, and did not speak again until the corner was negotiated. Then he said: “I am afraid that you deem me a very worthless creature, ma’am. What am I to do to convince you that I can be perfectly sensible?”
“There is not the least need: I am sure that you can,” she replied amicably.
After that she became interested in the countryside, and from that passed to her forthcoming presentation. This event was to take place in the following week, and already her dress had been sent home from the skilful costumier who had altered an old gown of Lady Bridlington’s to the present mode. Miss Tallant did not tell Mr. Beaumaris that, naturally, but she did describe its magnificence to him, and found him both sympathetic and knowledgeable. He asked her what jewels she would wear with it, and she replied, in a very grand way: “Oh, nothing but diamonds!” and was promptly ashamed of herself for having said it, although it was perfectly true.
“Your taste is always excellent, Miss Tallant. Nothing could be more displeasing to a fastidious eye than a profusion of jewelry. I must congratulate you on having exerted so beneficial an influence over your contemporaries.”
“I?” she gasped, quite startled, and half-suspecting him of quizzing her.
“Certainly. The total lack of ostentation which characterizes your appearance is much admired, I assure you, and is beginning to be copied.”
“You cannot be serious!”
“But of course I am serious! Had you not noticed that Miss Accrington has left off that shocking collar of sapphires, and that Miss Kirkmichael no longer draws attention to the limitations of her figure by a profusion of chains, brooches, and necklaces which I should have supposed her to have chosen at random from an over-stocked jewel-box?”
There was something so irresistibly humourous to Arabella in the thought that her straitened circumstances had been at the root of a new mode that she began to giggle. But she would not tell Mr. Beaumaris why she sat chuckling beside him. He did not press her for an explanation, but as they had by this time reached the Park, suggested that she might like to walk on the grass for a little way, while the groom took charge of the curricle. She assented readily, and while they strolled about, Mr. Beaumaris told her something of that home of his in Hampshire. The bait failed. Miss Tallant confided her remarks on her own home to descriptions of the Yorkshire scene, and would not be lured into exchanging family reminiscences.
“I collect that your father is still alive, ma’am? You mentioned him, as I remember, on the day that you adopted Jemmy.”
“Did I? Yes, indeed he is alive, and I wished for him very much that day, for he is the best man in the world, and he would have known just what was right to be done!”
“I shall hope to have the pleasure of making his acquaintance one day. Does he come to London at all?”
“No, never,” replied Arabella firmly. She could not imagine that Mr. Beaumaris and Papa would have the least pleasure in one another’s acquaintance, thought that the conversation was getting on to dangerous ground, and reverted to her society manner.
This was maintained during most of the drive back to London, but when the open country was left behind, and the curricle was passing once more between rows of houses, it deserted her abruptly. In the middle of a narrow street, the grays took high-bred exception to a wagon with a tattered and flapping canvas roof, which was drawn up to one side of the road. There was barely room for the curricle to slip past this obstruction, and Mr. Beaumaris, his attention all on his horses, failed to take notice of a group of youths bending over some object on the flat-way, or to heed the anguished yelp which made Arabella, casting aside the light rug which covered her legs, cry out: “Oh, stop!” and shut her sunshade with a snap.
The grays were mincing past the wagon; Mr. Beaumaris did indeed pull them up, but Arabella did not wait for the curricle to come to a standstill, but sprang hazardously down from it. Mr. Beaumaris holding his sidling, snorting pair in an iron hand, took one quick glance over his shoulder, saw that Arabella was dispersing the group on the flag-way by the vigorous use of her sunshade, and snapped: “Go to their heads, fool!”
His groom, still perched up behind, and apparently dumbfounded by Miss Tallant’s strange conduct, came to himself with a start, jumped down, and ran round to hold the grays. Mr. Beaumaris sprang down, and descended swiftly upon the battleground. Having scientifically knocked two louts’ heads together, picked up the third lout by his collar and the seat of his frieze breeches, and thrown him into the road, he was able to see what had aroused Miss Tallant’s wrath. Crouched, shivering and whimpering, on the flag-way, was a small, sandy-coated mongrel, with a curly tail, and one ear disreputably flying.
“Those wicked, brutal,
“Take care! He may snap at you!” Mr. Beaumaris said quickly, seeing her about to kneel down beside the dog. “Shall I thrash them all soundly?”
At these words, the two smaller boys departed precipitately, the two whose heads were still ringing drew circumspectly out of range of Mr. Beaumaris’s long-lashed whip, and the bruised youth in the road whined that they weren’t doing any harm, and that all his ribs were busted.
“How badly have they hurt him?” Miss Tallant asked anxiously. “He cries when I touch him!”
Mr. Beaumaris pulled off his gloves, and handed them to her, together with his whip, saying: “Hold those for me, and I’ll see.”
She obediently took them, and watched anxiously while he went over the mongrel. She saw with approval that he handled the little creature firmly and gently, in a way that showed he knew what he was about. The dog whined, and uttered little cries, and cowered, but he did not offer to snap. Indeed, he feebly wagged his disgraceful tail, and once licked Mr. Beaumaris’s hand.
“He is badly bruised, and has one or two nasty sores, but there are no bones broken,” Mr. Beaumaris said, straightening himself. He turned to where the two remaining youths were standing, poised on the edge of flight, and said sternly: “Whose dog is this?”
“It don’t belong to no one,” he was sullenly informed. “It goes all over, stealing things off of the rubbish- heaps: yes,
“I seen ’im in Chelsea onct with ’alf a loaf of bread,” corroborated the other youth.
The accused crawled to Mr. Beaumaris’s elegantly shod feet, and pawed one gleaming Hessian appealingly.
“Oh, see how intelligent he is!” cried Arabella, stooping to fondle the animal. “He knows he has you to thank for his rescue!”
“If he knows that, I think little of his intelligence, Miss Tallant,” said Mr. Beaumaris, glancing down at the dog. “He certainly owes his life to you!”
“Oh, no! I could never have managed without your help! Will you be so obliging as to hand him up to me, if you please?” said Arabella, prepared to climb into the curricle again.
Mr. Beaumaris looked from her to the unkempt and filthy mongrel at his feet, and said: “Are you quite sure that you want to take him with you, ma’am?”
“Why, of course! You do not suppose that I would leave him here, for those wretches to torment as soon as we were out of sight! Besides, you heard what they said! He has no master—no one to feed him, or take care of him! Please give him to me!”
Mr. Beaumaris’s lips twitched, but he said with perfect gravity: “Just as you wish, Miss Tallant!” and picked
