The Masqueraders

Miss Merriot flushed slightly, whereat the humorous look came into Peter’s eye again. He looked down at Miss Letty gravely enough, and pulled a chair forward. ‘Sit down, madam, and let us have the story, if you please. I should desire to know how we may serve you.’

‘You have served me,’ vowed the lady, clasping her hands in her lap. ‘My story is all folly, sir – wicked folly rising out of the most dreadful persecution.’

‘You shock me, madam.’

Miss Merriot came to the fire, and sat down beside the little lady, who promptly caught her hand and kissed it. ‘I don’t know what I should have done without you!’ she said fervently. ‘For I had quite made up my mind I didn’t want to go to Gretna Green at all. You see, I had never seen him in his cups before. It was a terrible awakening. He became altered altogether once we were out of London, and – and I was afraid – a little.’ She looked up blushing. ‘At home when I saw him he was so different, you see.’

‘Do I understand, my dear, that you consented to elope with the gentleman?’ inquired Miss Merriot.

The black curls were nodded vigorously. ‘I thought it would be so romantic,’ sighed Letty. She brightened. ‘And so it was, when you hit him,’ she added, turning to Peter. ‘It was positively marvellous!’

‘Did you elope with him for the romance of it?’ ask

ed Mr Merriot, amused.

‘That, and because of my papa,’ said Letty. ‘And because of being bored. Oh, have you never known, ma’am, what it is to be cooped up, and kept so close that you are ready to die of boredom?’

‘In truth, I’ve led something of a rover’s life,’ said Miss Merriot. ‘But continue, child.’

‘I am an heiress,’ announced Letty in tones the most lugubrious.

‘My felicitations, ma’am,’ bowed Mr Merriot.

‘Felicitations! I wish I were a pauper, sir! If a man comes to the house my papa must needs imagine he is after my money. He said that of Gregory Markham. And indeed I think he was right,’ she said reflectively. ‘Ma’am, I think fathers are – are the veriest plague.’

‘We have suffered, child,’ said Miss Merriot.

‘Then, ma’am, you will feel for me. My papa puts a hateful disagreeable woman to be my duenna, and I am so guarded and sheltered that there is nothing amusing ever happens to me, in spite of having been brought to town. Add to all that, ma’am, Sir Anthony Fanshawe, and you will see why I had come to the pitch of doing anything only to get away!’

‘I feel we are to deplore Sir Anthony, Kate,’ said Mr Merriot.

‘It is not that I am not fond of him,’ Letty explained. ‘I have always been fond of him, but conceive, ma’am, being required to marry a man whom you have known all your life! A man, too, of his years and disposition!’

‘I perceive in you a victim of parental tyranny, child,’ said Miss Merriot. ‘We consign Sir Anthony to perdition.’

Letty giggled at that. ‘Oh, never, ma’am! ’Tis a model of prudence and the virtues! And thirty-five years old at the very least!’

Mr Merriot flicked a speck of snuff from his sleeve.

‘And to escape this greybeard, hence the young Adonis yonder, I suppose?’

Miss Letty hung her head. ‘He – he was not very young either, I suppose,’ she confessed. ‘And I have been very silly, and wicked, I know. But indeed I thought him vastly more entertaining than Tony. You could not for your life imagine Tony excited, or in a scrape, or even hurried. And Gregory said such pretty things, and it was all so romantic I was misled.’

‘The matter’s plain to the meanest intelligence, madam,’ Mr Merriot assured her, ‘I discover in myself a growing desire to meet the phlegmatic Sir Anthony.’

His sister laughed. ‘Ay, that’s to your taste. But what’s the next step?’

‘Oh, she goes with us along to London. Pray, ma’am, may we know your name?’

‘’Tis Letitia Grayson, sir. My papa is Sir Humphrey Grayson of Grayson Court, in Gloucestershire. He is afflicted with the gout. I expect you may see him by and by, for I left a note for him, and he would be bound to find it.’

‘We await his coming, then,’ said Miss Merriot. ‘It solves the matter. My Peter, bespeak a bedchamber for Miss Grayson.’

A confiding hand was slipped into Kate’s as Mr Merriot strolled away to the door. ‘Please will you call me Letty?’ said Miss Grayson shyly.

Mr Merriot made an odd grimace at the panel of the door, and went through into the taproom.

Mine host had barely recovered from his very natural bewilderment at finding that the supposed fugitive was still in his house when there came the sound of a chaise bowling at a rare speed along the road. It drew up at the inn, and in the light of the lamps Mr Merriot saw his servant jump down. He pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. ‘This should be papa,’ he said pensively. ‘Your fourth room will be wanted, host.’ He went back into the coffee-room to find that Miss Letty was at the window already, peering out.