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Mr Standen took another look at the homely countenance confronting him, realized that his unfortunate cousin was of unsounder mind than he had supposed, and said kindly; ‘Exactly so!’
‘Well, that’s all a hum,’ said Miss Plymstock bracingly. ‘What’s more, my brother’s in trade, and so was my father before him, and I’ve no fortune. I’m telling you so to your head, because no good ever came of hoaxing people. If you think I ain’t fit to match with an Earl, why, I know that as well as anyone, but I shall make Foster a better wife than any of the grand ladies he might offer for, and so I assure you!’
Much alarmed by the unmistakeably belligerent note in Miss Plymstock’s voice, Freddy hastened to say: ‘Nothing to do with me! Not my affair, y’know!’
‘You would not try to intervene, would you, Freddy?’ Kitty asked.
‘No
, no! Word of a gentleman! In fact, rather not have anything to do with it!’ said Freddy, in a burst of candour.
But Miss Charing was not at all inclined to permit him to adopt this craven attitude. She obliged him to sit down between herself and Hannah upon the settee, while she poured into his unwilling ear the full tale of his cousin’s difficulties. Miss Plymstock punctuated the recital with corroborations and occasional emendations; and Lord Dolphinton stood before the group, watching Freddy with very much the look of an anxious spaniel doubtful whether he was to receive a pat or a kick. Freddy found his intent gaze unnerving, and several times begged him to sit down. Lord Dolphinton shook his head. ‘Mean to marry Hannah,’ he said.
‘That’s right, old fellow,’ responded Freddy. ‘No need to stand there staring at me, even if you do.’
‘Keep an eye on you,’ said his lordship. ‘See what you’re thinking. Hannah says you won’t like it. I don’t think you won’t like it. Been watching you. Don’t look to be in a miff. You ain’t in a miff, are you, Freddy?’ Reassured on this head, he regarded his cousin with fond gratitude, and said: ‘You know what, Freddy? I like you. Always did. I like you better than Hugh. Like you better than Jack. Better than Biddenden. Don’t like him at all. Don’t like Claud much either.’
‘Yes, well, much obliged to you, Dolph!’ said Freddy patiently. ‘But it ain’t a bit of use thinking I can help you in this fix, because I dashed well can’t!’
‘Kitty’s going to help us,’ said Dolphinton, with simple faith.
‘That’s as may be,’ interposed Miss Plymstock. ‘There is no need for you to tease yourself, Foster, for we shall contrive in some way or another; but it seems to me it’s for Mr Standen to say whether Miss Charing may stand our friend or not. And if you don’t choose she should, sir, there’s no one could blame you, for I don’t doubt that Foster’s Mama will kick up a rare dust, and behave mighty unpleasantly to her.’
‘It don’t signify what my Aunt Augusta does,’ replied Freddy, for the second time in his career astonishing Kitty by a display of courage which seemed to her to verge on foolhardiness. ‘Can’t do Kit a mischief: shouldn’t let her. Daresay she’ll set up a screech. Thing is, Kit don’t live with her, and nor do I. Shan’t have to listen to anything she says.’
Miss Plymstock, listening to this eminently practical speech with warm approval, was moved to grasp Mr Standen’s hand again. ‘You’re a sensible man!’ she said gruffly. ‘Now, you listen to what your cousin says, Foster, and think if it ain’t what I’ve been drumming into your head this age past! Once the knot’s tied between us, and I have you safe, there’s nothing your Mama can do to hurt you, and so I promise you! You tell him that’s true, Mr Standen!’
‘Yes, I daresay it is,’ agreed Freddy, recovering his hand, and hoping very much that she would not feel herself impelled to wring it a third time. ‘The thing is, the knot ain’t tied, and I’m dashed if I see how it is to be, if Dolph’s being spied on all the time.’
‘We shall think of a way,’ said Kitty.
Her betrothed regarded her with misgiving. ‘Yes, but it won’t do if you think of sending ’em off to Gretna Green, or anything like that, Kit. Not one to throw a rub in your way, but that’s coming it too strong!’
‘Yes, indeed! In any event, Miss Plymstock thinks it would not answer, so you may be easy!’
Mr Standen, however, was not at all easy; and he took the earliest opportunity of telling Kitty so. ‘Shatterbrained, that’s what you are, my dear girl!’ he informed her, with some severity. ‘First it’s one thing, and then it’s another! Told me you wanted to come to town to establish yourself, but all you do is to mix yourself up in affairs that don’t concern you. Shouldn’t wonder if you were to find yourself at a standstill.’
‘But, Freddy, you would not have me refuse to help poor Dolph?’
‘Well, I would,’ he said. ‘Mind, it don’t matter to me if he chooses to marry that shocking fright, because he ain’t a Standen, for one thing; and for another he’s so badly touched in his upper works there’s no saying but what he might not do something a dashed sight worse than marry a tradesman’s daughter. Thing is, bound to be a rare kick-up if the thing comes off, and I’d as lief having nothing to do with it.’ He met Miss Charing’s slightly reproachful eyes manfully, and added: ‘Tell you what, Kit! Got too kind a heart!’
A smile swept across her face. ‘Oh, Freddy, how absurd you are! When you have a much kinder one than I have!’
‘No, really, Kit!’ protested Freddy, revolted. ‘Haven’t got anything of the sort! Been on the town for years!’
‘Yes, you have,’ averred Kitty, lifting his hand to her cheek for a brief moment. ‘And when I consider how dreadfully I have imposed upon you—Oh, well! At least, I promise I won’t embroil you in this business! You won’t object to it if I help them? For it is the most shocking thing, Freddy!—I could not speak of it with Dolph standing by, but Lady Dolphinton holds him in subjection by threatening to have him shut up as a lunatic! And that he is not!’
‘You don’t mean it?’ exclaimed Freddy, much struck. ‘Of course he ain’t a lunatic! Got no brains, that’s all. Well, I ain’t got any either, but you wouldn’t say I was a lunatic, would you?’
‘No, and you have got brains, Freddy!’ said Kitty indignantly.
Mr Standen, already shaken by having his hand rubbed worshipfully against a lady’s cheek, goggled at her. ‘You think I’ve got brains?’ he said, awed. ‘Not confusing me with Charlie?’
‘Charlie?’ uttered Miss Charing contemptuously. ‘I daresay he has book-learning, but you have—you have address, Freddy!’
‘Well, by Jove!’ said Mr Standen, dazzled by this new vision of himself.
Fourteen
