‘Get ’em for you,’ said Freddy, putting his head out of the window to shout the new direction to the coachman.
‘Oh, Mr Standen, you are so very—! No, no, you must not!’
‘Yes, I must,’ said Freddy. ‘Can’t go off to France without a toothbrush. Wedding-present!’
Olivia saw nothing incongruous in this, but thanked him earnestly. While he braved the dangers of Newton’s Emporium, she remained cowering in her corner of the coach, dreading every instant that her mother’s face would appear at the window. But no such terrible sight assailed her eyes; and in a short space of time Mr Standen rejoined her, placing on her lap a neat parcel; and the hack rumbled on towards Charing Cross.
Here, in the yard of the Golden Cross, pacing up and down, his watch in his hand, and on his face an expression of anxiety, they found the Chevalier. When he saw Olivia peeping from the window of the coach, he thrust his watch back into his pocket, and sprang forward to wrench open the door, exclaiming: ‘Mon ange, ma bien-aimée!’
‘My Camille!’ squeaked Olivia, almost falling out of the coach into his arms.
They embraced passionately. Mr Standen, descending more soberly from the aged vehicle, observed these transports with fastidious pain, and felt that some explanation was due to the interested coachman. ‘French!’ he said briefly. ‘Don’t you drive off! I shall be needing you. Er—no wish to meddle, d’Evron, but daresay you may not have noticed: couple of waiters looking at you over the blind! That your chaise? Get into it, if I were you!’
‘Ah, my friend!’ said the Chevalier, turning to him. ‘What can I say to you? How can I repay you?’
‘No need to say anything at all,’ replied Freddy firmly. ‘Pressed for time! Easily repay me! Very much obliged to you if you won’t visit London again!’
The Chevalier burst out laughing. ‘Ah, have no fear! Present, if you please, my compliments to my cousin—my regretful farewells!’
‘Oh, yes, Mr Standen! Pray, will you explain to dear Miss Charing how it was, and tell her that I shall never, never forget her kindness?’ said Olivia. ‘And, oh, Mr Standen, I am so very grateful to you for all—’
‘Yes, yes!’ said Freddy, shepherding them to where a post-chaise stood waiting. ‘Beg you won’t give it a thought! Pleasure!’
He then handed her up into the chaise, shook hands with the Chevalier, and waved goodbye as the horses began to move forward. After that, he turned back to the hackney. ‘Doctors’ Commons!’ he commanded. ‘And don’t dawdle!’
Nineteen
It was not a very long distance from London to the Reverend Hugh Rattray’s parish of Garsfield, but the time spent on the road was more than enough to reduce Lord Dolphinton’s nerves to ribbons, and to place a great strain upon Miss Charing’s patience. Not all her representations served to convince him that his mother was not hard on his heels; and when a broken trace necessitated a wait of several minutes it really seemed as though any further check would wholly overset his slender reason. As for pausing to partake of refreshment, when the horses were changed, he would not hear of it. Neither Finglass nor the coachman showed any surprise at his twittering impatience, so Kitty could only suppose that such moods were not uncommon in him. She herself had not been prepared to find him so much tortured by apprehension, but after travelling only five miles in his company she could readily understand why Miss Plymstock had so unhesitatingly stated that a journey all the way to Gretna Green would not have done for him.
Miss Plymstock, to Kitty’s abiding admiration, maintained throughout her air of stolid calm, talking to his lordship in a matter-of-fact way which seemed to soothe him, and never for an instant betraying a hint of exasperation. Indeed, Kitty was tempted to believe that she felt none, and was quite ashamed of herself for wishing on several occasions to speak sharply to him.
Garsfield, a very respectable parish, was situated less than ten miles from Arnside, and comprised, besides the village, several farms, one or two handsome houses, perhaps a dozen smaller ones, occupied by the lesser gentry, and a number of picturesque cottages. The Rectory, whose garden abutted on to the Churchyard, was a comfortable, squarely-built house, situated at one end of the village street. Everything about it, from its front-door, set precisely between two pairs of sash-windows, to its tidy flower-beds, was neat and symmetrical. Miss Plymstock admired it very much, and said, as she alighted from the carriage, that it was just such a house as she would like to live in herself. This observation momentarily diverted his lordship’s mind from its cares, but also caused him to feel an added anxiety. He said, looking earnestly into her face: ‘Like Dolphinton House better!’
‘Yes, I am persuaded I shall,’ she replied.
‘Not like this,’ said his lordship, closely watching for the effect of his words upon her. ‘Bigger. Much bigger. Bigger than George’s place. Bigger than Arnside.’ He reflected, and added, with a certain amount of dissatisfaction: ‘Not as big as Legerwood.’
‘Legerwood would be too big for me, and Arnside too small,’ said Miss Plymstock, never having visited either house.
He was much pleased with this answer, and turned back to inform Kitty, who had stayed to direct the coachman to drive the carriage round to the stables, that Hannah preferred Dolphinton to either Legerwood or Arnside. He then perceived that his carriage was driving away, and was at once attacked by a dread that Finglass, suspecting that he had been hoaxed, would, by means unknown, hasten back to London to carry the news to Lady Dolphinton. He seemed to think that it was by no means impossible that Finglass should have the effrontery to ride off on the Rector’s hack; and was much inclined to summon the man back.
‘No, no, that would make him suspicious!’ said Kitty. ‘Depend upon it, he is thinking of nothing but going off to the Green Man! I told him that we should remain for at least an hour.’
‘Come, Foster!’ said Miss Plymstock, putting a hand in his arm. ‘You know he believes Miss Charing has a message to give your cousin from Lady Buckhaven! You may be sure he sees nothing odd in our having come here before going to Arnside. Now, haven’t you told me how often you have been visiting the Reverend in the past?’
He admitted it, and consented to be drawn on towards the house. But here a stunning disappointment awaited them. Hugh’s housekeeper, who herself opened the door to the visitors, exclaimed in dismay that the Reverend was away from home.
A moan broke from Lord Dolphinton, and, for once, Miss Plymstock was at a loss. She looked at Kitty, her eyes round with horror.
‘Away!’ said Kitty. ‘Oh, dear, what a—Is he at Arnside, perhaps, Mrs Armathwaite?’
‘No, miss. He has gone to Biddenden for two nights,’ replied the housekeeper. ‘He will be put out to think he was away, when you and his lordship came to visit him!’
‘We must send for him!’ said Kitty resolutely. ‘It is most important that I should see him. Someone must ride to Biddenden with a letter!’
Mrs Armathwaite looked very much astonished; and ventured to point out to her that since Biddenden Manor was situated quite fifteen miles distant from Garsfield the Rector could scarcely be fetched in time to reach his home before dusk.