‘If heisyour nephew, I have no interest in him whatsoever,’ declared the matron handsomely.
‘Mama!’ whispered her son, anguished. ‘Recollect, I beg of you! A stranger! No proof! The greatest discretion!’
‘I am quite distracted!’ said Mrs Griffin, shedding tears.
This had the effect of driving the landlord from the room, and of flustering Mr Griffin. Between trying to pacify his parent, and excusing such odd behaviour to the elegant stranger, he became hotter than ever, and floundered in a morass of broken phrases. The look of astonishment on Sir Richard’s face, the pained lift of his brows, quite discomposed him, and he ended by saying: ‘The truth is my mother is sadly overwrought!’
‘My confidence has been betrayed!’ interpolated Mrs Griffin, raising her face from her damp handkerchief.
‘Yes, Mama: precisely so! Her confidence has been betrayed, sir, by – by the shocking conduct of my cousin, who has –’
‘I have nourished a viper in my bosom!’ said Mrs Griffin.
‘Just so, Mama. She has nourished – at least, not quite that, perhaps, but it is very bad, very upsetting to a lady of delicate sensibility!’
‘All my life,’ declaimed Mrs Griffin, ‘I have been surrounded by ingratitude!’
‘Mama, you cannot be surrounded by – and in any case, you know it is not so! Do, pray, calm yourself! I shall claim your indulgence, sir. The circumstances are so peculiar, and my cousin’s behaviour has exerted so strong an effect upon my poor mother that – in short –’
‘It is the impropriety of it which is worse than anything!’ said Mrs Griffin.
‘Exactly so, Mama. You see, it is the impropriety, sir – I mean, my mother is not quite herself.’
‘I shall never,’ announced the matron, ‘hold up my head again! It is my belief that this person is in league with her!’
‘Mama, most earnestly I implore you –!’
‘Her?’ repeated Sir Richard, apparently bewildered.
‘Him!’ corrected Mr Griffin.
‘You must forgive me if I do not perfectly understand you,’ said Sir Richard. ‘I apprehend that you have – er – mislaid a youth, and have come –’
‘Precisely so, sir! We mis – at least, no, no, we did not mislay him, of course!’
‘Ran away!’ uttered Mrs Griffin, emerging from the handkerchief for a brief instant.
‘Ran away,’ corroborated her son.
‘But in what way,’ enquired Sir Richard, ‘does this concern me, sir?’
‘Not at all, sir, I assure you! No such suspicion is cherished by me, upon my word!’
‘What suspicion?’ asked Sir Richard, still more bewildered.
‘None sir, none in the world! That is just what I was saying. I have no suspicion –’
‘But I have!’ said Mrs Griffin, in much more robust tones. ‘I accuse you of concealing the truth from me!’
‘Mama, do but consider! You cannot – you know you cannot insult this gentleman by insinuating –’
‘In the execution of my duty there is nothing I cannot do!’ responded his mother nobly. ‘Besides, I do not know him. I mistrust him.’
Mr Griffin turned wretchedly to Sir Richard: ‘You see, sir, my mother –’
‘Mistrusts me,’ supplied Sir Richard.
‘No, no, I assure you! My mother is sadly put out, and scarcely knows what she is saying.’
