They were blocking the flagway, and the two large matrons now approaching did not propose to share the right of way. Rossiter guided Gwendolyn away from their aggressive advance. Still striving to win a kindlier attitude from his goddess, Morris was lost to all else and became the recipient of a sharp prod from a parasol. He uttered an involuntary yelp. The matron who had folded her weapon so as to attack him, now snapped it open again. It was of brightly hued purple and white silk with a scarlet fringe, and it turned Morris’ Windsong into the whirligig Rossiter had named him. Neighing his terror, the big horse reared and spun. Morris tried to pull him down, but was sent reeling. He collided with Katrina and knocked the dainty reticule from her hand. Gwendolyn was well clear of the debacle, and Rossiter sprang forward, swept Naomi into his arms, and whirled her around.
“Oh! Put me down at once!” cried Naomi angrily.
An iron-shod hoof flailed down about four feet from her cheek.
Katrina gave a cry of alarm.
“Oh, Gad! I am so very sorry,” groaned Morris, belatedly succeeding in controlling his rambunctious animal.
Katrina’s footman, who had been engaged in conversation with a shabby individual, now came running up, and he and Morris bent simultaneously to retrieve Katrina’s reticule. Gideon heard the thump as their heads collided. The footman gave a shocked cry and his wig and tricorne fell off. Gasping, Morris snatched determinedly for the reticule. Unhappily, he retrieved it upside down. Coins rolled in all directions; a pencil, notepad, card case, chain purse, handkerchief, a brush, an advertisement for cucumber lotion, a small pair of scissors, a brooch, two letters, a pot of rouge, a scone wrapped in paper, a flea comb, and a carrot were scattered about the flagway. A hand mirror shattered as did a vial of scent, the latter splashing Miss Falcon with cloying fragrance that was customarily applied by the drop. She uttered a wail of embarrassment. The footman knelt and started to retrieve the numerous casualties, and Morris groaned dismally.
Passers-by had found the incident highly amusing, and a big man accompanied by a very fat and hilarious lady, shouted that it was “as good as any farce.”
Naomi pulled away from Rossiter’s arms and fixed him with a stern frown.
He enquired blandly, “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I wasperfectlyall right, and nowhere near—”
He made a gesture of dismissal. “There is not the need for thanks,” he said, with somewhat questionable magnanimity. “A gentleman must always stand ready to protect a helpless damsel.”
“Hmm,” said Naomi. “Katrina, you are not harmed?”
Miss Falcon might be unharmed but she was close to tears of mortification. In a shaken voice she urged that they return home at once, for they must have a nap this afternoon.
The three ladies embraced and said hurried farewells. Rossiter engaged to call for Lady Naomi at half past nine o’clock, and poor Morris, hanging his head in shame, wished the earth might open and swallow him.
Turning back towards Falcon House, Katrina all but sobbed, “I reek! Oh, I shall smell of Camellia Caprice forever! I haveneverbeen so humiliated! Whatever must they have thought?”
“That you carry a vast amount in your reticule, love.” Her eyes alight with mischief, Naomi said, “Never fret. Your laundress will get the scent out, I am persuaded. But in truth, you carry some unexpected articles when you go out for a stroll.”
“I took the scone to feed the ducks in the park yesterday, and quite forgot! And the carrot was for my mare. But—thefleacomb, Naomi! ’Twas for Apollo, but—What if—Oh, how awful!”
Naomi chuckled. “No, really. Even those two would never think ’twas for your own lovely head, dearest.”
“I do hope not,” sniffed Katrina. “Faith, but I marvel Lieutenant Morris survived the war. He is a perpetual disaster!”
“And so terribly smitten, poor fellow. He could scarce have played his cards worse! He must first shoot August, then come nigh to trampling you with his half-broke horse, next engage in the fiasco with your footman, and compound his offenses by emptying your reticule. Truly, I could not but feel sorry for him. He looked ready to sink!”
“And I was of a mind to sink him! Bad enough he must make me a figure of fun, but had it not been for Captain Rossiter—Naomi, I was sure that wild animal’s hoof was going to strike your face!”
Naomi said tartly, “He would certainly have done so—had he the legs of a camelopard, or whatever ’tis they call them now.”
“Giraffe, I believe. No, was the horse that far from you? Then I wonder why Captain Rossiter must snatch you up like that?”
Naomi gave her a level look. “Do you, indeed.”
Momentarily forgetting her own humiliation, Katrina said with saintly innocence, “I suppose it must have been very dreadful to be crushed and swept up in his arms like that. In view of—er, everything.”
Infuriatingly, Naomi felt her cheeks burn. She said, “I vow I purelydreadthis evening! Whatever has become of your footman?”
The footman in question, having collected all the contents of the reticule and restored his own dignity, was presenting Rossiter with a folded paper. “A h’individual h’asked me to put this in your ’and, sir,” he said. “Jest before”—he flashed an aggrieved glance at the glum Morris—“the h’incident with the ’orse.”
Rossiter thanked him and soothed his ruffled feelings by sending him after his ladies with a florin in his palm.
“And now, Miss Gwendolyn,” Rossiter turned to his sister. “I’ll have an explanation, if you please. What were you thinking of to drive out with Tummet? How came you to be in this part of town? And where the deuceisthe dimwit?”
“’Twas such a lovely day,” she began airily.
