“When Sherry hears what I have to say to him he’s not the man I take him for if he don’t come straight back with me to tell poor little Kitten he didn’t mean a word of it!” declared George.
“You don’t understand, George,” Hero said sadly. “Perhaps he would listen to you, and perhaps he might relent towards me, because he is very kind to me, but you see — you see, it was all a dreadful mistake, and I ought not to have married him.” She bent her head, looking down at her tightly clasped hands. “Sherry — Sherry doesn’t love me, you see. He — he never did love me. If I had not been such a silly g — goose, I should not have — For he never pretended that he loved me, you know.”
George’s face twisted. He came quickly back into the room and laid his hand over both Hero’s and gripped them. “I know,” he said, in a moved voice.
She nodded. “Yes, I — I thought you did, George. So, you see ...”
There was an uncomfortable silence. George broke it, addressing himself with some asperity to Mr Ringwood. “Why the devil can’t you say something, Gil, instead of standing there like a dashed waxworks?”
“Thinking,” said Mr Ringwood curtly.
“Well, you’d best think quickly!” George said. “It only needs for Sherry to find she’s here for the fat to be in the fire!”
“Sherry likely to miss you?” Mr Ringwood inquired of Hero.
“Oh no! He has gone out, and he will think I am in bed when he comes in. No one knows that I am not in the house.”
“Did you come here alone, Kitten?”
“No, Maria is with me. She is my maid, and oh, I never knew how much she liked me until today, for she never seemed to like me at all! But — but she came to me when Sherry had gone away, and she said a piece out of the Bible, about Ruth and Naomi, in the most touching way, and she is in the hall now, with my baggage, for I could not carry anything besides my clock and the canary, and those I had to bring!”
Ferdy surveyed these two necessary adjuncts to a lady’s baggage rather doubtfully. “Dare say you’re right,” he said. “Very handsome timepiece.”
“Gil gave it to me for a wedding present,” Hero explained, her tears beginning to flow again. “I have your bracelet too, and how could I bear to leave Gil’s dear little canary? It is named after him! And Sherry — Sherry does not love it as I do, and perhaps he might give it away.”
“Quite right to bring it,” said Ferdy firmly. “Company for you. All the same, Kitten, what beats me is where you mean to go. Can’t stay with Gil, you know. Sherry wouldn’t like it above half.”
“Yes, she can,” said Mr Ringwood unexpectedly. “At least, not for long, but no reason why she shouldn’t stay here tonight. In fact, she must.”
“Good God, Gil, you must have taken leave of your senses!” said George explosively. “No reason why she shouldn’t, indeed! If that’s all your precious thinking leads to — ”
“No reason at all,” said Mr Ringwood. “Got her abigail. Have a truckle bed put up in my room. I’ll spend the night in your lodging.”
“I suppose she could do that,” George admitted grudgingly. “But it don’t solve anything! Dash it, it’s the damnedest coil! She has no relatives she may go to, or I’d say she was right to leave Sherry. But she can’t live by herself! You know that! If her mother-in-law weren’t such a curst disagreeable woman — You are certain you could not bear to go to Sheringham Place, Kitten? I mean, Sherry’s a brute to have put it to you like that, but I can’t but see what’s in his head. It is the dowager’s business to have an eye on you, only — ”
“No, no, George, pray do not ask me to go there!” Hero begged him. “I have made up my mind that I will become a governess, just as Cousin Jane always said I should be. But I do not know how to set about it, and that is why I came to Gil, because he taught me to drive my phaeton, and I thought he might know.”
“Do you know, Gil?” inquired Ferdy, looking at Mr Ringwood with dawning respect.
“No,” replied Mr Ringwood.
“Didn’t think you would,” said Ferdy. “Tell you what: ask my mother! Bound to know!”
“She ain’t going to be a governess,” said Mr Ringwood shortly. “Told you I’d been thinking. Well, I’ve got a notion.”
George, who had been turning the matter over in his mind, said suddenly: “It’s all very well, but she can’t leave Sherry like this! Dash it, it’s impossible!”
“No, it ain’t,” replied Mr Ringwood, his stolidity unshaken. “Best thing she could do. Going to take her to stay with my grandmother.”
“By Jove!” exclaimed Ferdy, much struck. “Devilish good notion of yours, Gil! As long as she ain’t dead.”
“Of course she ain’t dead!” said Mr Ringwood, with a touch of impatience. “How could I take Kitten to stay with her if she was?”
“That’s what I was wondering,” confessed Ferdy. “Thought she was dead. Thought you went to the funeral, what’s more.”
“If you weren’t so cork-brained you’d know that was my other grandmother!” said Mr Ringwood, quite exasperated. “I’m talking of my maternal grandmother, Lady Saltash.”
Ferdy regarded him fixedly. “Forgot she was your grandmother too. You know what I think, Gil?”
“No, and I don’t want to.”
“No need to get into a miff, dear old boy! Only going to say, couldn’t have had a better notion myself. Very sporting old lady, your grandmother. Dare say she and Kitten may deal extremely.”
“Oh, do you think she would be so obliging as to teach me how to behave like a lady of fashion?” Hero asked anxiously.
“Shouldn’t be at all surprised,” responded Mr Ringwood. “Never met any old lady so much up to snuff as my grandmother.”
A qualm smote Hero; she said: “But perhaps she may not like to have me to stay with her, Gil?”
“Yes, she will. Like it above all things. Dare say you may be very useful to her. Got a pug-dog. Nasty, smelly little brute. Took a piece out of my leg once. You could take it for walks. Wants exercising. At least, it did when I last saw it. Of course, it may be dead by now. Good thing if it is.”
Ferdy, who had been listening attentively, interposed at this point to object: “Don’t see that, Gil, old boy; don’t see that at all! Stands to reason Kitten can’t take the pug for walks if it’s dead. No point in her going to Bath.”
“Bath! Does she live in Bath?” cried Hero, before the incensed Mr Ringwood could wither Ferdy. “Oh, nothing could be better: for it was to Bath I was to have gone to be a governess, and Sherry does not like the place, and he will never look for me there! Oh, Gil, how kind and clever you are!”
Mr Ringwood blushed and disclaimed. Ferdy agreed that Gil had always been a knowing one, and only George remained unconvinced. But he reserved his criticisms until Hero and her abigail had presently been escorted upstairs by Mr Ringwood’s impassive valet. He then spoke his mind in no uncertain fashion, the gist of his argument being that whatever the state of affairs might be between Sherry and his wife, they were legally married, and it was the height of impropriety for Gil or anyone else to aid and abet Hero in deserting her husband.
“I don’t care a fig for that,” responded Mr Ringwood. He had by this time changed his dressing-gown for a blue coat and a waistcoat, and was engaged in stuffing into a cloak-bag such items as he might be supposed to need for a night’s sojourn away from home.
“I dare say you don’t,” retorted Lord Wrotham, “but you’re not the only one of us who can think, let me tell you! I don’t mean Ferdy: I know he can’t; but I can, and what’s more, I have thought! I’m devilish fond of Kitten, but dash it, Sherry’s a friend of mine!”
“Friend of mine too,” said Mr Ringwood, finding a snug resting-place for his hairbrushes inside a pair of bedroom slippers.