The Nonesuch

“Yes, at the Rectory. They were just sitting down to dinner when we arrived, and Mrs Chartley would have me stay. Miss Trent declined it, but the Rector said I need not think I should be obliged to walk home, if I stayed, because his man should drive me here. So I did. I hadn’t meant to remain for so long, but we got to talking about everything under the sun—you know how it is!—and I never noticed the time. You didn’t wait for me, did you?”

“No, not for a second. Did you restore your young Hemp to his parents?”

“Yes, but as for calling the poor little devil a young Hemp—Good God, he’s only six years old, and all he stole was one apple! Miss Trent told you what happened, didn’t she? It was the most frightful moment!”

“It must have been. I collect that Miss Chartley showed the greatest presence of mind.”

“Yes, and such courage! She made nothing of it: her only concern was for the boy. I could only wonder at her, for she is so quiet and shy that one would never have supposed that she could behave with such intrepidity, or remain so composed! If the danger she had been in had not been enough to overset her you’d have thought that the people who crowded round would have done it! She paid no heed to them—didn’t even shrink from the fellow who ranted at her that he was going to hand the boy over to the Law. Lord, Waldo, I never wanted you more in my life!”

“Why? Couldn’t you deal with the bloodthirsty citizen without my assistance?”

“That! Of course I could! But I didn’t know what the devil ought to be done with the brat. However, Miss Chartley knew—yes, and just what to say to the mother and father, too! The only thing that did overset her—for a few minutes—” He broke off abruptly.

“I can guess,” said Sir Waldo helpfully.

Julian shot him a quick, defensive look; but after a slight pause he said, with a forced smile and a mounting colour: “I suppose so—since you drove her back to Staples! I’m very much obliged to you, by the way. Did she—did she rip up to you about it?”

“Oh, yes, but no more than I expected! Accredited beauties, you know, can rarely bear to be eclipsed. It was clearly incumbent upon me to remove her from the scene, but I own I shall always regret that I was denied the privilege of meeting the low, vulgar, and disgustingly ill-mannered young gentleman in the tilbury!”

That drew an involuntary laugh from Julian. “Baldock! First he said he didn’t see why she should faint, and then he called her a shrew! I don’t know why I should laugh, for the lord knows I didn’t feel like laughing at the time! But what a clunch!” He was silent again for a minute, and then said, with a little difficulty: “You think I’m a clunch too, don’t you? But I’ve known, ever since that ill-fated expedition to Knaresborough ... I thought, at first, that it was just—just because she was so young, and had been so much indulged, but—but, there’s no heart behind that lovely face, Waldo! Nothing but—oh, well! What a fellow I am to be saying such things! Even to you! But I daresay you may have suspected that she—she did bowl me out, when I first saw her!”

“I should have been astonished if she hadn’t,” replied Sir Waldo, in an indifferent tone. “I don’t recall when I’ve seen a more beautiful girl. It’s a pity she has neither the wits nor the disposition to match her beauty, but I’ve no doubt she’ll do very well without them. If her fortune is sufficiently substantial she may even catch her Marquis!”

“Catch her Marquis?” exclaimed Julian blankly. “Which Marquis?”

“Whichever offers for her. Yes, I know it may seem absurd, but she seems to have set her heart on becoming—at the least!—a Marchioness. It won’t surprise me at all if she achieves her ambition. What, by the way, did the Chartleys think of this stirring adventure?”

“She was very much shocked, of course,” Julian replied, “but the Rector said that Patience—Miss Chartley, I mean!—had done just as she ought! Naturally Mrs Chartley couldn’t but wish it hadn’t happened: she didn’t blame anyone! In fact, neither she nor the Rector made much more of it than Miss Chartley did herself! You may depend upon it that I took care to assure them that she had not entered that dreadful hovel which was the boy’s home!—Miss Chartley told me there were many worse to be seen, but I swear to you, Waldo, my pigs are better housed!—but Mrs Chartley only said that a clergyman’s daughter was used to go amongst the poor. I had thought she would be very much vexed, but not a bit of it! We spent such a comfortable evening! Yes, and only imagine my surprise when I discovered that she was a Yateley! Somehow or other we had got to talking about Timperley, and Mrs Chartley told me that she had been born not so very far from it! Well, in the next county, at all events: Warwick! When she mentioned her previous name, you may guess how I stared!”

“Forgive me!” apologized Sir Waldo. “I’m either very dull, or very forgetful, but I haven’t the least guess! Who are the Yateleys?”