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Miss Trent was too unsophisticated to conceal her pleasure at this prospect. ‘Will you indeed?’ she cried, warm gratitude in her eyes. ‘I do think you are the kindest person I have ever met, sir! But ought you not rather to join your friends?’
‘Certainly not,’ he replied. ‘A very dull set of people! My whole desire is to revisit Bath.’
At this moment the waiter came in to announce the arrival of a surgeon, and Miss Trent went off to lead this practitioner up to the sufferer. When she returned to the parlour, the table had been laid, and dinner awaited her. She made an excellent repast. She said that Sarah must not travel for a few days, but that she was much easier now the limb had been set. ‘So there is nothing for it but to leave her here, poor thing!’ she said. ‘She says she will do very well, but I feel the veriest brute! But if my cousin were to get to Bath before me there is no saying what might happen! He would serve me a back-handed turn if he could!’
‘But what has engendered this violent antipathy between you, ma’am?’ asked Sir Julian, a good deal amused.
‘We both want the same thing,’ said Miss Trent darkly, ‘and he is afraid that I shall get it! But I have detested him all my life.’
She did not stay in the parlour for long after the covers had been removed, but retired early to bed, leaving her protector still ignorant of what her business in Bath could be.
Local prophecy turned out to be exact. It stopped snowing during the night, and although the landscape was thickly shrouded next morning, the sky had lost its leaden hue, and the sun showed some faint signs of breaking through the clouds. Miss Trent came down to breakfast in a mood of high hope. ‘I believe it will turn out to be a beautiful day, sir!’ she announced. ‘And if you will really be so obliging as to escort me to Bath, we may go in your curricle!’
‘It would be far too cold for you,’ he said.
‘No, indeed, I should like it of all things,’ she insisted. ‘And only think what a deal of expense you may save!’
Sir Julian, who had never in his life considered such a sordid matter, agreed to it meekly, and went out into the yard after breakfast to give orders to his groom.
It was while he was engaged in the stables that Mr Joseph Selsey arrived at the Pelican, having plodded all the way on foot from Woolhampton, carrying his valise. It was perhaps not surprising that he should be in an evil humour, but the head groom made no allowance for this circumstance. Peremptory persons looking suspiciously like provincial merchants would get no extraordinary attention from the Pelican’s supercilious servants. No post-chaise, stated the groom, would leave the inn that day. It was not until Mr Selsey had dragged the landlord into the dispute that he was able to hire, not a chaise, but a saddle-horse.
He was obliged to be satisfied, and to trust that he might be able to exchange the horse for a chaise in Hungerford. He then called for hot coffee to be brought him whilst the horse was being saddled, and in crossing the hall of the inn came upon Miss Trent, issuing from the parlour.
He stopped short, staring at her. ‘So this is where I find you?’ he ejaculated. ‘Fine doings, miss! Very pretty behaviour, upon my word!’
‘Why, what is wrong?’ she demanded.
‘Of course you would not know!’ he said, with one of his jeering laughs. ‘But it is all of a piece! By anything I ever heard, your mother was just such another, always ready to run off with any man who offered!’
‘How dare you?’ cried Miss Trent, her eyes blazing.
Sir Julian, who had come in from the yard in time to overhear this passage of arms, here interposed, saying in his languid way: ‘Ah, so this is your cousin Joseph, is it? Dear me, yes! Come with me, sir!’
‘Why should I?’ demanded Mr Selsey, taken aback.
‘That you shall see,’ said Sir Julian, leading the way out into the yard.
Mr Selsey followed him in some bewilderment, and Miss Trent, running back into the parlour to peep above the blind, had the felicity of seeing her objectionable relative dropped sprawling in the snow by a blow from Sir Julian’s famous right.
Mr Selsey picked himself up and bored in furiously. Sir Julian side-stepped neatly and dropped him again. This time Mr Selsey remained on the ground, nursing his jaw.
‘And let that be a lesson to you not, in future, to insult a lady!’ said Sir Julian calmly.
Mr Selsey, uneasily measuring the size and style of his opponent, said sulkily: ‘I didn’t mean – that is, I didn’t know –’
‘You know now,’ said Sir Julian, and turned, and went back into the inn.
He was met by Miss Trent, her face aglow with admiration. ‘Thank you!’ she said. ‘I have been wanting to do that all my life!’
‘What, did you see it, then?’ he asked, startled.
‘Yes, through the window. I clapped my hands! I wonder you did not hear me!’
He flung back his head and laughed. ‘You incorrigible child, you should be in a swoon, or indulging in a fit of the vapours!’
‘Pooh, as though I had not seen Bertram and Ned at fisticuffs a score of times! When do we set forward?’
‘In about half an hour, if you can be ready then.’
