glad to be left in peace to wrestle with the second of the problems confronting him, meditatively rubbed the rim of his quizzing-glass up and down the bridge of his nose.
“Freddy!” said Miss Charing suddenly, turning her expressive eyes towards him.
He gave a slight start, and let his quizzing-glass fall. “Thinking of something else!” he excused himself.
“Freddy, you are quite sure you don’t want to marry me, aren’t you?”
He looked a little alarmed, for she spoke with a degree of urgency which made him feel uneasy. “Yes,” he said. He added apologetically: “Very fond of you, Kit, always was! Thing is, not a marrying man!”
“Then, Freddy, will you be so very obliging as to be betrothed to me?” said Miss Charing breathlessly.
Chapter IV
For a stunned moment Mr. Standen stared into the dark eyes fixed so beseechingly on his face. His horrified gaze, wavering, fell upon the tumbler, still clasped in Miss Charing’s hand. A certain measure of relief entered his face; he removed the half-empty glass, and set it down safely out of Miss Charing’s reach. “Ought never to have given it to you!” he said, in self-accusatory tones.
“No, no, Freddy, indeed I’m not inebriated !”
“Lord, no, Kit! Nothing of that sort! Just a little bit on the go! Call for some coffee! Soon set you to rights!”
“I don’t want it! I am quite sober, I promise you! Oh, Freddy, please listen to me!”
Mr. Standen, however undistinguished a scholar, was at home to a peg in all matters of social usage. He knew well that it was useless to expostulate with persons rather up in the world. Miss Charing had stretched out an impulsive hand, and was clutching the sleeve of his coat in a way that could not but render him acutely apprehensive, but he refrained from drawing her attention to this. He said soothingly: “Of course! With the greatest pleasure on earth!”
To his relief, she released him. He smoothed his sleeve carefully, and was inclined to think that no irreparable damage had been done to it.
“I cannot and I will not return to Arnside!” announced Kitty. “At least, I suppose I must for a little while, but I won’t remain there, meekly waiting for—for some obliging person to marry me! By hook or by crook I mean to go to London! Ever since I was seventeen I have yearned to go. Uncle Matthew will not let me. He says it would be a great waste of money, and that it is not to be thought of. It is useless to argue with him upon that head: in fact, it is much worse than useless, because the last time I begged him to let me go with Fish, for one week, only to see the sights, he went to bed, and stayed there for a fortnight, and would do nothing but throw things at Spiddle and poor Fish, and groan in the most affecting way whenever I entered his room! He said he had nourished a serpent in his bosom, and that I did not care how soon he was dead and buried, besides being giddy, and selfish, and too young to go to London. Of course, the thing was that he could not let me go without Fish, and that would have meant that there would have been no one left at Arnside to order everything as he likes, for he won’t employ a housekeeper, you know.”
“Very hard case,” said Freddy politely. “But it ain’t got anything to do with—”
“It has, Freddy, it has!” insisted Kitty. “Only consider! If you were to offer for me, and I should accept your offer, Lord and Lady Legerwood would wish to see me, would they not?”
“Have seen you,” Freddy said, entering a caveat.
“Well, yes, but not at all lately. They—they would wish to present me to their acquaintance! Freddy, don’t you think your mama would invite me to stay with her, in Mount Street? Just for one little month?”
Mr. Standen, perceiving a straw, clutched at it. “Tell you what, Kit! Ask my mother to invite you. Fond of me: very likely to do it to oblige me. No need to be betrothed!”
For a moment her eyes brightened; then they clouded
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