Will You Love Me in September

"I was so pleased that you won twenty and in such a noble way.”

"It is no use brooding on these matters, dear Clarissa. That which was won at the Plump Partridge has now found its way into another's pocket, and the coach people have long forgotten their good dinner.”

"I think they will remember you for a long time. They will talk °f it to their children in the years to come.”

"It will be like a candle in a dark world. Candles gutter, Clarissa, and soon go out. What a dismal conversation! Soon we shall be in London. There we shall spend one night at my residence and the next day set out for Enderby. Your adventure is nearly over. Thank you for letting me share in it.”

|'It is I who should be thanking you." It has been a wonderful journey. A duel of sorts in the Plump Partridge, losing fifty pounds last night, a lecture on the evil of my ways-and best of all, my dear sweet Clarissa, your company.”

I was mollified. He had great charm of manner, and perhaps I liked him better because of his obvious imperfections.

So we rode on, and I was moved when I saw the great stone walls of the mighty Tower of London and the river running like a ribbon between the fields and houses. It was growing dusk as we came through the city to Albemarle Street, where Lance had his London residence. As soon as we arrived there was a bustle of excitement. There seemed to be innumerable servants. He explained that a room was to be prepared for the niece of General Eversleigh, whom he was taking next day to her family in the country.

In the meantime our main desire was for food, and we were very tired after having ridden so far.

It was a beautiful house-by no means old. It had been designed, I learned later, by Christopher Wren soon after the great fire of London, when the famous architect was rebuilding so much of the town. It was not large, by Eversleigh standards, but it had an elegance which bigger houses lacked. The paneling was beautiful, the curved staircase of exquisite design and everything as I would have expected, knowing Lance, was far from flamboyant, but at the same time impressed even those, like myself, that it was in the best possible taste.

The household was impeccably run. That was obvious by the speed in which our rooms were made ready and the meal served.

We sat in a room with windows which reached almost from floor to ceiling that they might let in the maximum of light. There was a silver candelabrum on the table and in the mellow lighting I found the surroundings extremely gracious.

"I think your house is beautiful," I told Lance.

"Thank you, Clarissa. I am rather fond of it myself. I spend a great deal of time here-rather than in the country. I am, as you may have observed, what is generally known as 'a man-abouttown.' “

"Well, naturally," I replied. "The gaming houses are here.”

"Oh, you can manage very well in the country. There are all sorts of ways of losing your money there, I assure you.”

"And saving it would not provide the same excitement, I suppose.”

"How could it?”

"It would to me," I said. "I should enjoy watching it accumulate.”

"Dear, saintly Clarissa! A lesson to us all ... and in particular to foolish gamblers.

Try some of this soup. It is my cook's very special pride. I believe there is always a cauldron of it bubbling in the kitchen.”

"You are very well cared for here.”

"I see to it. It is one of the passions of my life to be well cared for ... second to gambling, of course.”

"I am learning a great deal about you.”

"Oh, dear, that sounds ominous. I am learning a little about you too.”

"I often think it is a mistake to know too much about people.”

"That could be a very profound statement," he said.

So we bantered.

I spent the night in a delightful room. There was a fire in the grate, and no sooner had I sunk into my featherbed than I was sound asleep.

I was awakened by a serving girl who brought me hot water. It was still dark, but she told me that Sir Lance had said we were to be ready to leave as soon as it was light.

Oddly enough, I felt a certain regret that the adventure was nearly over. I was still dazed by all that had happened. I was just beginning to realize how much I had enjoyed my days with Lance.

We left the comfort of the house in Albemarle Street and took the road to the southeast.

There were two stops on the road and the last was at the historic town of Canterbury.

We were then a day's riding from Eversleigh.

In all the places we passed through, if we engaged in conversation with anyone, the talk always turned to the attempted rising of the Chevalier of St. George-or the Pretender, as he was more frequently called.

There was fear of war in the air, and I was uneasy, thinking that if it really came, Dickon would be on one side, my family on the other.

Lance was a little subdued, I thought, as we rode out of Canterbury.

I asked if he was thinking of the martyr who had been slain in the cathedral. Was it the fate of St. Thomas which occupied his mind and made him melancholy?