“I have not the slightest excuse to make for my cousin’s conduct,
Madame Gobelli. It appears to me that he has treated you with very
scant civility, and he ought to be ashamed of himself. But as you know,
his little niece’s death was very sudden and unexpected, and the least
he could do was to escort his sister-in-law and Miss Leyton back to
England, and since then----”
“Well! and what since then?” demanded the Baroness, sharply.
“Lord Walthamstowe and he have come to an arrangement,” said Pennell,
speaking very slowly, “that his marriage with Miss Elinor Leyton shall
take place sooner than was at first intended. The Limerick Rangers
are under orders for foreign service, and Captain Pullen naturally
wishes to take his wife out with him, and though, of course, all this
is no excuse for his omitting to write you a letter, the necessary
preparations and the consequent excitement _may_ have put his duty out
of his head. Of course,” he continued, “you know that Ralph is engaged
to marry Miss Leyton?”
“I ’eard something of it,” replied the Baroness reluctantly, “but one
never knows what is true and what is not. Anyway, Captain Pullen didn’t
give out the news ’imself! ’E seemed ’appy enough without Miss Leyton,
didn’t ’e, ’Arriet?”
But turning round to emphasise her words, she found that Harriet had
not followed them into the library. Whereupon she became confidential.
“To tell you the truth, Mr. Pennell,” she continued, “’e just be’aved
like a scoundrel to our little ’Arriet there. ’E ran after the gal all
day, and spent all ’is evenings in our private sitting-room, gazing
at ’er as if ’e would eat ’er, whilst she sang and played to ’im. ’E
never said a word about marrying Miss Leyton. It was all ‘’Ally, ’Ally,
’Ally’ with ’im. And if the gal ’adn’t been a deal too clever for ’im,
and wise enough to see what a vain zany ’e is, she might ’ave broken
’er ’eart over it. The conceited jackanapes!”
“But she has not fretted,” said Anthony Pennell eagerly.
“Not she! I wouldn’t let ’er! She’s meat for Captain Pullen’s master!
A gal with fifteen ’undred a year in ’er own ’ands, and with a pair of
eyes like that! Oh! no! ’Arriet can pick up a ’usband worth two of your
cousin any day!”
“I should think so indeed,” replied Mr. Pennell fervently, “I have
heard Mrs. Pullen mention Miss Brandt, but she did not prepare me for
meeting so beautiful a girl. But I can hardly wonder at my cousin
running away from her, Madame Gobelli. Knowing himself to be already
engaged, Miss Brandt must have proved a most dangerous companion.
Perhaps he found his heart was no longer under his own control, and
thought discretion the better part of valour. You must try and look
upon his conduct in the best light you can!”
“Oh! well! it don’t signify much anyway, for ’e’s no miss at the Red
’Ouse, I can tell you, and ’Arriet could marry to-morrow if she chose,
and to a man worthy of ’er. But now you must look at my Spode.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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