‘Bromford? Now, what a shocking thing that would be! You do right to put me on my guard! Charlbury lives in dread of being called out by him.’
‘I might have known I should meet with nothing but levity in you!’
‘If you will scold me so absurdly. I am not always so.’
‘Sophy –!’ He took a hasty step towards her, his hand going out, but almost immediately dropping to his side again. ‘I wish you had never come amongst us!’ he said, and turned away, to lean his arm along the mantelpiece, and stare down at the empty grate.
‘That is not kind, Charles.’
He was silent.
‘Well, you will be rid of me soon, I daresay. I depend upon seeing Sir Horace at any time now. You will be glad!’
‘I must be glad.’ The words were uttered almost inaudibly, and he did not raise his head, or make any movement to prevent her leaving the room.
The exchange had taken place in the library. She stepped out into the hall just as Dassett opened the front door to admit Mr Wychbold, very natty in a driving-coat of innumerable capes, shining Hessians, and an enormous nosegay stuck into his buttonhole. He was in the act of laying his tall beaver-hat down upon a marble-topped table, but at the sight of Sophy he used it to lend flourish to his bow. ‘Miss Stanton-Lacy! Very obedient servant, ma’am!’
She was surprised to see him, for he had been out of town for some weeks. As she shook hands, she said: ‘How delightful this is! I did not know you were in London! How do you do?’
‘Only reached town today, ma’am. Heard of your troubles from Charlbury: never more shocked in my life! Came at once to enquire!’
‘That is like you! Thank you, she is almost well now, although dreadfully thin, poor little dear, and languid still! You are the very person I wished to see! Are you driving yourself? Must youinstantly see my cousin, or will you take me for a turn round the Park?’
He was driving his phaeton, and there could be only one answer to her request. With the greatest gallantry he bowed her out of the house, warning her, however, that she would encounter none but cits in the Park at this season.
‘And what, sir, would you have me say to Mr Rivenhall?’ asked Dassett, fixing his disapproving eye on a point above Mr Wychbold’s left shoulder.
‘Oh, tell him I called, and was sorry to find him from home!’ replied Mr Wychbold, with an insouciance the butler found offensive.
‘Have you been out in your own phaeton, ma’am?’ Mr Wychbold asked, as he handed Sophy in the carriage. ‘How do your bays go on?’
‘Very well. I have not been driving them today, however, but have been to Merton with Charlbury.’
‘Oh – ah!’ he said, with a slight cough and a sidelong look.
‘Yes, making myself the talk of the town!’ Sophy said merrily. ‘Who told you so? The arch-enemy?’
He set his pair in motion, nodding gloomily. ‘Came smash up to her in Bond Street on my way here. Felt obliged to stop. She has put off her black ribands!’
‘And means to marry Charles next month!’ said Sophy, who, having reached habits of easy intercourse with Mr Wychbold, never stood upon ceremony with him.
‘Told you so,’ he pointed out, with a certain melancholy satisfaction.
‘So you did, and I replied that I might need your good offices. Do you make a prolonged stay in town, or are you off again immediately?’
‘Next week. But, y’know, ma’am, there ain’t anything to be done! Pity, but there it is.’
‘We shall see. What do you think would happen if you were to tell Charles one day that you had seen me driving off in a post-chaise and four with Charlbury?’
‘He would plant me a facer,’ responded Mr Wychbold, without hesitation. ‘What’s more: shouldn’t blame him!’
‘Oh!’ said Sophy, disconcerted. ‘Well, I am sure I don’t wish him to do that. But if it were true?’
‘Wouldn’t believe me. No need for you to go off with Charlbury. Not the kind of fellow to engage in such freaks, either.’
‘I know that, but it might be contrived. He would not plant you a facer if you only asked himwhyI was leaving town with Charlbury for my escort, would he?’
After giving this his consideration, Mr Wychbold admitted that he might be spared the facer on these terms.
