Sprig Muslin

At this point, any faint vision, which Sir Gareth might have had, of a tyrannical grandparent, left him. He said: ‘I quite expected to hear that he had locked you in your room.’

‘Oh, no!’ she assured him. ‘Aunt Adelaide did so once, when I was quite a little girl, but I climbed out of the window, into the big elm tree, and Grandpapa said I was never to be locked in again. And, in a way, I am sorry for it, because I daresay if I had been locked in Neil would have consented to an elopement. But, of course, when all Grandpapa would do was to give me things, and talk about my presentation, and send me to parties in Bath, Neil couldn’t perceive that there was the least need to rescue me. He said that we must be patient. But I have seen what comes of being patient,’ Amanda said, with a boding look, ‘and I have no opinion of it.’

‘What does come of it?’ enquired Sir Gareth.

‘Nothing!’ she answered. ‘I daresay you might not credit it, but Aunt Adelaide fell in love when she was quite young, like me, and just the same thing happened! Grandpapa said she was too young, and also that he wished her to marry a man of fortune, so she made up her mind to be patient, and then what do you think?’

‘I haven’t the remotest guess: do tell me!’

‘Why, after only two years the Suitor married an odious female with ten thousand pounds and they had seven children, and he was carried off by an inflammation of the lungs! And none of it would have happened if only Aunt Adelaide had had a grain of resolution! So I have quite made up my mind not to cultivate resignation, because although people praise one for it I don’t consider that it serves any useful purpose. If Aunt Adelaide had been married to the Suitor, he wouldn’t have contracted an inflammation of the lungs, because she would have taken better care of him. And if Neil is wounded again, I am going to nurse him, and I shall not permit anyone, even Lord Wellington himself, to put him on one of those dreadful spring-wagons, which was harder to bear than all the rest, he told me!’

‘I’m sure it must have been. But none of this explains why you ran away from your home,’ he pointed out.

‘Oh, I did that to compel Grandpapa to consent to my marriage!’ she said brightly. ‘And also to show him that I am not a child, but, on the contrary, very well able to take care of myself. He thinks that because I am accustomed to be waited on I shouldn’t know how to go on if I had to live in billets, or perhaps a tent, which is absurd, because I should. Only it never answers to tell Grandpapa anything: one is obliged to show him. Well, he didn’t believe I should climb out of the window when I was locked into my room, though I warned him how it would be. At first, I thought I would refuse to eat anything until he gave his consent – in fact, I did refuse, one day, only I became so excessively hungry that I thought perhaps it wasn’t such a famous scheme, particularly when it so happened that there were buttered lobsters for dinner, and a Floating Island pudding.’

‘Naturally you couldn’t forgo two such dishes,’ he said sympathetically.

‘Well, no,’ she confessed. ‘Besides, it wouldn’t have shown Grandpapa that I am truly able to take care of myself, which is, I think, important.’

‘Very true. One can’t help feeling that it might have put just the opposite notion into his head. Now tell me why you think that running away from him will answer the purpose!’

‘Well, it wouldn’t: not that part of it, precisely. That will just give him a fright.’

‘I have no doubt it will, but are you quite sure you wish to frighten him?’

‘No, but it is quite his own fault for being so unkind and obstinate. Besides, it is my campaign, and you can’t consider the sensibilities of the enemy when you are planning a campaign!’ she said reasonably. ‘You can have no notion how difficult it was to decide what was best to be done. In fact, I was almost at a stand when, by the luckiest chance, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Post. It sai

d that a lady living at – well, living not very far from St Neots, wished for a genteel young person to be governess to her children. Of course, I saw at once that it was the very thing!’ A slight choking sound made her look enquiringly at Sir Gareth. ‘Sir?’

‘I didn’t speak. Pray continue! I collect that you thought that you might be eligible for this post?’

‘Certainly I did!’ she replied, with dignity. ‘I am genteel, and I am young, and I assure you, I have been most carefully educated. And having had several governesses myself, I know exactly what should be done in such a case. So I wrote to this lady, pretending I was my aunt, you know. I said I desired to recommend for the post my niece’s governess, who had given every satisfaction, and was in all respects a most talented and admirable person, able to give instruction in the pianoforte, and in water-colour painting, besides the use of the globes, and needlework, and foreign languages.’

‘An impressive catalogue!’ he said, much struck.

‘Well, I do think it sounds well,’ she acknowledged, accepting this tribute with a rosy blush.

‘Very well. Er – does it happen to be true?’

‘Of course it’s true! That is to say – Well, I am thought to play quite creditably on the pianoforte, besides being able to sing a little, and sketching is of all things my favourite occupation. And naturally I have learnt French, and, lately, some Spanish, because although Neil says we shall be over the Pyrenees in a trice, one never knows, and it might be very necessary to be able to converse in Spanish. I own, I don’t know if I can teach these things, but that doesn’t signify, because I never had the least intention of being a governess for more than a few weeks. The thing is that I haven’t a great deal of money, so that if I run away I must contrive to earn my bread until Grandpapa capitulates. I have left behind me a letter, you see, explaining it all to him, and I have told him that I won’t come home, or tell him where I am, until he promises to let me be married to Neil immediately.’

‘Forgive me!’ he interpolated. ‘But if you have severed your lines of communication how is he to inform you of his surrender?’

‘I have arranged for that,’ she replied proudly. ‘I have desired him to insert an advertisement in the Morning Post! I have left nothing to chance, which ought to prove to him that I am not a foolish little girl, but, on the contrary, a most responsible person, quite old enough to be married. Yes, and I didn’t book a seat on the stage, which would have been a stupid thing to do, on account of making it easy, perhaps, for them to discover where I had gone. I hid myself in the carrier’s cart! I had formed that intention from the outset, and that, you see, was what made it so particularly fortunate that the lady who wished for a governess lived near to St Neots.’

‘Oh, she did engage you?’ Sir Gareth said, unable to keep an inflexion of surprise out of his voice.

‘Yes, because I recommended myself very strongly to her, and it seems that the old governess was obliged to leave her at a moment’s notice, because her mother suddenly died, and so she had to go home to keep house for her papa. Nothing could have fallen out more fortunately!’

He was obliged to laugh, but he said: ‘Abominable girl! What next will you say? But if you are now on your way to take up this desirable post, how come you to be trying to hire yourself as a chambermaid at this inn, and why do you wish to go to Huntingdon?’

The triumphant look in her eyes was quenched; she sighed, and said: ‘Oh, it is the shabbiest thing! You would hardly believe that my scheme could miscarry, when I planned it so carefully, would you? But so it was. I am not on my way to Mrs – to That Female. In fact, quite the reverse. She is the horridest creature!’

‘Ah!’ said Sir Gareth. ‘Did she refuse after all to employ you?’

‘Yes, she did!’ answered Amanda, her bosom swelling with indignation. ‘She said I was by far too young, and not at all the sort of female she had had in mind. She said she had been quite deceived, which was a most unjust observation, because she said in the advertisement that she desired a young lady!’

‘My child, you are a shameless minx!’ said Sir Gareth frankly. ‘From start to finish you deceived this unfortunate woman, and well you know it!’