The Nonesuch

These hazards successfully skirted, she steered her charges into a large and entrancing establishment, where both young ladies bought some gloves and some ribbons, and Tiffany several pairs of silk stockings, which aroused such envy in Miss Chartley’s gentle bosom that she determined to save twelve shillings from the sum reposing in her purse so that she could buy just one pair to wear at the Colebatches’ ball.

After this they visited the silk warehouse which enjoyed Mrs Chartley’s patronage; and while Tiffany, who soon lost interest in the choice of a satin to furnish a new underdress for Patience’s gauze ball-gown, wandered about, inspecting silks and velvets, with a dazed and slavishly admiring young shopman in attendance, Miss Trent placed her taste and experience at her young friend’s disposal. A very reasonably priced satin of a charming shade of pink having been discovered, there was only enough time left before the ladies’ assignation with Lord Lindeth for the purchase of Patience’s new dancing-sandals. This was soon accomplished, and although it took several minutes to dissuade Tiffany from investing in a pair of pale blue silk sandals, they returned to the King’s Arms before their host had begun to entertain any very serious fear that some accident must have overtaken them.

He was awaiting them in a private parlour, and it was evident from the array of cold meats, fruit, jellies, and creams on the table that he had taken great pains over their entertainment. Only one thing, in Miss Trent’s view, was wanting. For no persuasion would she have betrayed the smallest interest in the whereabouts of the Nonesuch; but when Tiffany, who had few reserves, demanded to know why he was not present, she felt, for once, no desire to censure this unbecoming pertness.

“He’ll be here presently,” Lindeth answered. “We won’t wait for him, however: he warned me not to—said I was to make his apologies, if he was detained. I daresay he is still interviewing bailiffs! From what I saw, that lawyer—what’s his name?—Smeeth!—had a score of ’em drawn up in line for his inspection!”

“Oh!” Tiffany said, pouting. “Dull work!”

“Well—” He hesitated, and then said: “Yes, of course it is—dull work for a lady, I mean.”

“I should suppose it must be very difficult,” said Patience thoughtfully. “In particular, if you mean to leave the bailiff in sole charge. One hears of such shocking instances of tyranny, and neglect—though my father says the fault too often lies at the landlord’s door.”

“Yes, very true,” he agreed. “Screws like old Joseph Calver, wringing every groat it will yield out of his land, and leasing his farms on short terms to thriftless get-pennies, because—” He stopped, seeing the frown that creased Tiffany’s brow. “But I don’t know why we should be talking about such things, and boring Miss Wield!”

“No, nor do I!” she said, all demure mischief. “Tell me why?”

He laughed. “Not for the world! I’ll invite you to the table instead! I hope you are very hungry! Miss Trent, will you sit here, and may I carve you some chicken?”

“Misuse of language, Lindeth: hack is the word!” said Sir Waldo, entering the parlour at that moment. “How do you do, ma’am? Miss Chartley, your very obedient! Miss Wield, yours! I beg all your pardons: I’m late!”

“Now, that puts me in mind of a remark someone once made to me,” said Miss Trent, apparently chasing an elusive recollection. “Something about becoming inured to unpunctuality ... Who can have said that, I wonder? I have the wretchedest memory!”

“Then you should not attempt quotation, ma’am!” retorted Sir Waldo, a laugh in his eye. “‘To the unpunctuality of your sex’ was what I said.”

“Oh, no, did he, ma’am?” exclaimed Lindeth. “That’s famous. Hoist with his own petard!”

“What does that mean, pray?” asked Tiffany.

“You must not ask me,” responded Sir Waldo, with a reproving look. “Lindeth shouldn’t say such things in the presence of ladies.”

“Oh, is it improper?” she said innocently.

“Most improper!” he replied, his gravity unimpaired.

She saw that the others were laughing, and put up her chin, flushing slightly. But as Sir Waldo, taking his seat beside her at the table, asked her to tell him all about the morning’s shopping expedition, showing a gratifying interest in her purchases, she very soon mended her temper, and prattled to him throughout the meal in the greatest good humour.