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‘You may not have said it, but you did say that you would rescue me from that odious Sir Roland, and if that is not –’
‘Well, I am rescuing you,’ interrupted Mr Morley, ‘and I don’t object to being romantic in reason. But when it comes to you wanting a rope-ladder to escape by,’ he continued, last night’s quarrel taking possession of his mind again, ‘I call it the outside of enough.’
‘Who ever heard of any other kind of ladder for an elopement?’ demanded Miss Paradise scathingly.
‘I don’t know, but how was I to find such a thing? And now I come to think of it,’ pursued Mr Morley, ‘why the devil did you want a ladder at all? Your father and your aunt were both gone out, and you told me yourself the servants were all in bed.’
A disarming dimple peeped in Miss Paradise’s cheek.
‘Well, to tell you the truth, it wasn’t very necessary,’ she confessed. ‘Only it seemed so much more exciting.’
The entrance of a serving-man with a tray prevented Mr Morley from uttering the indignant retort that sprang to his lips, and by the time the table was laid and the covers set on it the mingled aromas of coffee and broiled ham and ale had put all other thought than that of breakfast out of his head. He handed Miss Paradise to a chair, drew one out for himself, and was soon engaged in assuaging the first pangs of his hunger.
Miss Paradise, pursuing thoughts of her own, presently said:
‘I dare say they won’t have found my note yet.’
‘I wish to Heaven you hadn’t written it, Bab!’
‘Well, so do I now,’ admitted Miss Paradise. ‘Because although I made certain that Aunt Albinia would not think of going to my room when she came home last night, it has all at once occurred to me that perhaps she might.’
Mr Morley, who was carving the cold sirloin, gave a groan.
‘Why? If she never does –’
‘Yes, but you see, I said I had the headache, Rupert, because they would have forced me to go with them to the dinner-party if I hadn’t.’ Her brow darkened. ‘To meet that odious old man,’ she added broodingly.
‘Sale?’ enquired Mr Morley.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘He isn’t as old as that, Bab. Hang it, he can’t be much above thirty. And you don’t know that he’s odious after all.’
‘Oh, yes, I do,’ retorted Miss Paradise with strong feeling. ‘He wrote to Papa that he was perfectly willing to fulfil his obligations and marry me. I never heard of anything so odious in my life. He must be the most horrid creature imaginable, and as for Papa, I am sorry to be obliged to say it, but he is very little better; in fact, I think, worse, because it was he who made this abominable plan to marry me to an Eligible Person with whom I am not even acquainted. And Sir Joseph Sale, too, of course, detestable old man that he was.’
‘Gad, he was!’ agreed Mr Morley. ‘Do you remember –’
‘No,’ said Miss Paradise. ‘At least, I’m not going to, because one should never speak ill of the dead. But you may depend upon it his nephew is just like him, and if Papa thinks I am going to marry to oblige him he very much mistakes the matter. As though you and I had not said years and years ago that we would marry each other.’
‘Parents are all alike,’ said Mr Morley gloomily. ‘However, this should show my father that I am not to be treated like a child any longer.’
‘Yes,’ said Miss Paradise, pouring out another cup of coffee. ‘And if they don’t like it on account of your being too young, I shall tell Papa that it is all his fault, because if he hadn’t made an arrangement for me to marry a man I’ve never clapped eyes on we shouldn’t have thought of being married for a long time, should we?’
‘No,’ said Mr Morley. ‘Not until I had come down from Oxford, at all events, and after that, I believe there was a scheme for me to make the Grand Tour, which I must say I should have liked. I dare say we shouldn’t have thought of being married for four or five years.’
Miss Paradise paused in the act of drinking her coffee and lowered the cup.
‘Four or five years!’ she repeated. ‘But I should be twenty-two or -three years old.’
‘Well, so should I,’ Mr Morley pointed out.
‘But that is not at all the same thing,’ said Miss Paradise indignantly.
‘Oh, well, there’s no sense in arguing about it,’ replied Mr
Morley, finishing his ale, and getting up. ‘They have compelled us to elope, and there’s an end to it. I had best tell them to have the horses put-to at once, I think. We have no time to lose.’
Miss Paradise agreed to it, and engaged to be in readiness to resume the journey by the time Mr Morley had paid the reckoning and seen a fresh team harnessed to the chaise. He went out, and she was left to drink the last of her coffee, to tie on her becoming hat once more, and to straighten her tucker. This did not take long; she was ready before her swain, and was about to sally forth into the yard when the sound of a carriage being driven fast down the street made her run to the window.
