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‘Amanda Smith, I regret to be obliged to inform you that you are a shockingly untruthful girl,’ said Sir Gareth calmly.
‘It is a very good name!’ she said, on the defensive.
‘Amanda is a charming name, and Smith is very well in its way, but it is not your surname. Come, now!’
She shook her head, the picture of pretty mulishness. ‘I shan’t tell you. If I did, you might know who I am, and I have a particular reason for not wishing anyone to know that.’
‘Are you escaping from school?’ he enquired.
She stiffened indignantly. ‘Certainly not! I’m not a schoolgirl! In fact, I am very nearly seventeen, and I shall shortly be a married lady!’
He sustained this with no more than a blink, and begged pardon with suitable gravity. Fortunately, the landlord returned at that moment, with lemonade, beer, and the grudging offer of freshly baked tarts, if Miss should happen to fancy them. Judging by the hopeful gleam in Amanda’s eyes that she would fancy them very much, Sir Gareth bade him bring in a dish of them, adding: ‘And some fruit as well, if you please.’
Quite mollified by this openhanded behaviour, Amanda said warmly: ‘Thank you! To own the truth, I am excessively hungry. Are you really an uncle?’
‘Indeed I am!’
‘Well, I shouldn’t have thought it. Mine are the stuffiest people!’
By the time she had disposed of six tartlets, and the better part of a bowl of cherries, cordial relations with her host had been well-established; and she accepted gratefully an offer to drive her to Huntingdon. She asked to be set down at the George; and when she saw a slight crease appear between Sir Gareth’s brows very obligingly added: ‘Or the Fountain, if you prefer it, sir.’
The crease remained. ‘Is someone meeting you at one of these houses, Amanda?’
‘Oh, yes!’ she replied airily.
He opened his snuff-box, and took a leisurely pinch. ‘Excellent! I will take you there with pleasure.’
‘Thank you!’ she said, bestowing a brilliant smile upon him.
‘And hand you into the care of whoever it is who is no doubt awaiting you,’ continued Sir Gareth amiably.
She looked to be a good deal daunted, and said, after a pregnant moment: ‘Well, I don’t think you should do that, because I daresay they will be late.’
‘Then I will remain with you until they arrive.’
‘They might be very late!’
‘Or they might not come at all,’ he suggested. ‘Now, stop trying to hoax me with all these faradiddles, my child! I am much too old a hand to be taken in. No one is going to meet you in Huntingdon, and you may make up your mind to this: I am not going to leave you at the George, or the Fountain, or at any other inn.’
‘Then I shan’t go with you,’ said Amanda. ‘So then what will you do?’
‘I’m not quite sure,’ he replied. ‘I must either give you into the charge of the Parish officer here, or the Vicar.’
She cried hotly: ‘I won’t be given into anyone’s charge! I think you are the most interfering, odious person I ever met, and I wish you will go away and leave me to take care of myself, which I am very well able to do!’
‘I expect you do,’ he agreed. ‘And, I very much fear, I am just as stuffy as your uncles, which is a very lowering reflection.’
‘If you knew the circumstances, I am persuaded you wouldn’t spoil everything!’ she urged.
‘But I don’t know the circumstances,’ he pointed out.
‘Well – well – if I were to tell you that I am escaping from persecution – ?’
‘I shouldn’t believe you. If you are not running away from school, you must be running away from your home, and I conjecture that you are doing that because you’ve fallen in love with someone of whom your relations don’t approve. In fact, you are trying to elope, and if anyone is to meet you in Huntingdon it is the gentleman to whom – as you informed me – you are shortly to be married.’
‘Well, you are quite out!’ she declared. ‘I am not eloping, though it would be a much better thing to do, besides being most romantic. Naturally, that was the first scheme I made.’
‘What caused you to abandon it?’ he enquired.
