The Nonesuch

There was a good deal more in the same strain, culminating in the iniquity of all concerned in coolly, and without as much as a by-your-leave, appropriating Tiffany’s carriage (for even if it did belong to her aunt it had been lent to her, not to Patience) for the conveyance of a dirty and thievish boy who ought rather to have been handed over to the constable. This was the crowning injury, and Tiffany’s eyes flashed as she recounted it. She did not deny that she had lost her temper. She had borne everything else without uttering a single complaint, but that had been Too Much.

The Nonesuch, quick to seize opportunity, agreed that such conduct passed all bounds. He was astonished to learn that Lindeth and Miss Trent were so lost to all sense of propriety as to suppose that Tiffany could be left to kick her heels at the King’s Arms while they jauntered about the town (with a dirty and thievish boy) in what was undoubtedly her carriage. He said that they would be well served if, when they at last returned to the King’s Arms, they were to find that the bird had flown.

“Yes,” agreed Tiffany, hiccupping on a sob. “Only, if I were to order John-Coachman to bring the carriage round he wouldn’t do it, because he is a detestable old man, and treats me as if I were a child!”

“I’ll take you home,” said the Nonesuch, with his glinting smile.

She stared at him. “You? In your phaeton? Now?”He nodded; and she jumped up, exclaiming ecstatically: “Oh, yes! I should like that of all things! And we won’t leave a message, either!”

“Oh, that will be quite unnecessary!” he said, with perfect truth.

Her tears ceased abruptly: and if the ill-usage she had suffered still rankled in her bosom it soon became at least temporarily forgotten in the elation of being driven by no less a person than the Nonesuch.

Mrs Underhill was very much shocked when she heard what had happened in Leeds, but although Sir Waldo left Tiffany to tell the story as she pleased the good lady’s reception of it was not at all what her niece desired or expected. She said she wouldn’t have had such a thing happen for the world. “Not with Mrs Chartley letting Patience go with you, as she did, which quite surprised me, for I never thought she would, and no more she would have, if it hadn’t been for Miss Trent being there to take care of her. And what she’ll say, when she hears about this—not that Miss Trent could have stopped it, by all I can make out, for it wasn’t a thing anyone would expect to happen! Well, thank goodness Miss Trent had the sense to stay with Patience! At least Mrs Chartley won’t be able to say we didn’t do our best, or that she was left to be brought home by his lordship, which she wouldn’t have liked at all! Not that I mean he wouldn’t have kept the line, as I hope I don’t need to explain to you, Sir Waldo, for I’m sure I never knew anyone more truly the gentleman—present company excepted, of course—but Mrs Chartley—well, she’s nice to a fault, and very strict in her notions!”

This speech was naturally extremely displeasing to Tiffany. There were danger signals in her eyes, which her aunt viewed with apprehension. Mrs Underhill hoped that she was not going to fly into one of her miffs, and she said feebly: “Now, Tiffany-love, there’s nothing to put you into high fidgets! To be sure, it was vexatious for you to be obliged to wait, when you was wanting to come home, but you wouldn’t have wished to leave poor Miss Chartley with no carriage, now, you know you wouldn’t! A very shabby thing that would have been! And Sir Waldo driving you home in his phaeton, which I’ll be bound you enjoyed!”

“They should have asked me!” said Tiffany obstinately. “If they had done so—”

“I see what it is!” suddenly announced Charlotte, whose penetrating gaze had been fixed for some minutes on her cousin’s face. “Nobody paid any heed to you! And you might just as easily have rescued the boy as Patience, only you didn’t, so it wasn’t you that was brave and noble, but her and that’s why you’re in such a pelter!”

“How dare you?” gasped Tiffany, glaring at her.

“Charlotte, don’t!”begged Mrs. Underhill, much agitated.

“And,”pursued Charlotte, with acute if deplorable insight, “it’s my belief the man in the tilbury didn’t pay any heed to you either, and that’s why you said he was rude and vulgar!”

“Now that’s enough!” said Mrs Underhill, with a very fair assumption of authority. “Whatever must Sir Waldo be thinking of you? I don’t know when I’ve been so mortified! You must please excuse her, sir!”

“I’ll excuse them both, ma’am, and leave them to enjoy their quarrel!” he replied, looking amused.

“Oh, dear, and I was going to ask you if you wouldn’t stop to eat your dinner with us!” exclaimed Mrs Underhill distressfully.

“Thank you: you are very good, ma’am, but I mustn’t stay,” he answered, smiling at her in a way which, as she afterwards told Miss Trent, made her feel all of a twitter.