Hero, who had listened to this with the greatest attention, turned it over in her mind before replying. She said slowly, at last: “It will be very hard, but perhaps, in the end, it would be for the best. I do understand what you mean, dear ma’am. Only, when George told me that he was coming here, I thought — I could not help thinking that it was because some chance had informed him that I was with you. And I could not help indulging the hope that he did love me after all.”
“Yes, my dear,” agreed her ladyship, with a certain amount of dryness. “That would have put quite another complexion on the affair. But it does not appear that he has the least notion of your being with me.”
“No,” Hero said sadly.
Lady Saltash left it at that.
Shortly after noon, Mr Tarleton came to Camden Place by appointment, in his curricle, and took Hero up for a drive to Kelston. It struck him that she wore rather a sober face, and he rallied her on it. accusing her of finding Bath a tedious place and himself a great bore.
“Oh, no, that I certainly do not!” she said quickly.
“I am persuaded you think me a dull dog, with one foot in the grave, and not a spark of romantic fervour in my whole composition!”
She laughed. “No, how should I be so foolish? I dare say you could be excessively romantic, if you wished to be, and as for having one foot in the grave, pooh!”
“But I fancy you did think so, when first we met?” he said quizzically.
She coloured. “Yes, it is true, but that was before I became properly acquainted with you.”
“Tell me, Miss Wantage, do you consider me past the age of thinking of marriage?”
She looked up. “No, indeed! Why, have you some such notion?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Her dimples peeped. “Then, of course, you must become romantic, Mr Tarleton! Females are so silly, you know, that they much prefer romance to solid worth!”
He pulled a grimace. “Solid worth! Of all abominable phrases! Do you remember telling me once that you thought runaway marriages the best? Are you still of the same mind?”
She stifled a sigh. “Yes. That is, it is the only kind of marriage for me. I do not think it would suit you, however! Do you think I shall ever be able to drive a team, Mr Tarleton?”
“Yes. I would willingly teach you.”
“I never met anyone I dealt with so extremely as you!” she said, laughing. “But I am sure I should not be allowed to! I expect it is not the thing at all.”
“Who cares?” he returned. “I am not such a prosy old fellow as to be for ever thinking of what is the thing, I assure you!” He glanced down at her profile. “You have never told me anything about yourself, Miss Wantage. I collect you are not related to Lady Saltash?”
“No,” she replied.
“Forgive me if I seem to you impertinent! But I see you living a life that must be unsuited to one of your youth and natural spirits, and I — ”
“Lady Saltash is everything that is kind!” she said. “Indeed, I am under no inconsiderable obligation to her, and if I have seemed to you to be ungrateful — ”
“Ungrateful! No, indeed! I have been much struck by your constant attentions to her. I have the greatest regard for Lady Saltash, but I cannot believe that you are happy in Camden Place.”
She was silent, her colour much heightened. After a short pause, he continued: “Do you mean to remain permanently in your present position?”
She started. “Oh, no! It would be impossible, for I have not the least claim on Lady Saltash! Already I feel that I have trespassed on her kindness for too long. I do not — I am not perfectly certain what I shall do, but you must know that I was trained to become a governess, and — and it was with the object of finding an eligible situation in some seminary that I came to Bath.”
“A governess! You!” he exclaimed. “You are not serious! You cannot mean me to believe that you wish for such an existence!”
A rather melancholy smile trembled on her lips. “Oh, no! I shall dislike it of all things! In fact, I once said that I would do anything rather than become one! But if I do find such a post perhaps it will not be so very bad after all.”
“Have you no relatives to provide for you?” he asked. “You are so young! Surely there must be someone — a guardian, perhaps — whose business it must be to take care of you?”
“No, there is no one — at least, I have a cousin who gave me a home when my father died, but she could not house me for ever, you see, and to tell you the truth I did not like her, nor she me.”
“I had not imagined that this could be so,” he said, in a moved tone. “I had thought — This alters things indeed!” He smiled, as she looked up inquiringly, and said: “No wonder you dream of romance and adventure! You should be called Cinderella, I think!”
Her mouth quivered. She replied: “It is odd that you should say so. I have sometimes thought that too. You do not know the whole, and I cannot tell it to you just now, though perhaps one day I may. I — I was very like Cinderella.”
“Except that no Prince has yet come with a glass slipper for you to try on your foot!” he said.
She was silent, her attention apparently fixed on the road ahead, her face still a little flushed. When she did speak, it was with a touch of constraint, and only to say that she fancied it must be time they were thinking of a return to Camden Place. He agreed at once, for he thought her embarrassment arose from maidenly shyness. He said gently: “Was it very dull and disagreeable in your cousin’s house, Cinderella?”
She smiled at that. “Yes, odiously dull! And she has three daughters, and they are all of them quite shockingly plain, though perhaps not plain enough to be called the Ugly Sisters!”
“And did they go to parties while you stayed at home and swept out the kitchen?”
“Well, not quite as bad as that, for I was not out, you know! I do think they were not always very kind to me, but I dare say it was tiresome for them to be obliged to have me.”
“I hope they may every one of them die a spinster!”
“Oh, no, how spiteful!” she protested.
“You dreamed of romance, and they made you a governess! I cannot forgive them! You must have your romance in despite of them! How would you like to be carried off, married out of hand, cosseted and cared for by a husband who would adore you — ah, the happy-ever-after ending, in effect? Is that not what you have dreamed of?”
“All girls do,” she said, in a constricted tone. “At least, when they are very young and foolish, they do. But — but real life is not quite like the fairy-tales.”
“But you were made to live a fairy-tale life, and I am determined you must do so!”
She raised her candid eyes to his face, and said simply: “Please do not, Mr Tarleton! I know you are only funning, but — but I would rather you did not!”
“I will do nothing to displease you,” he promised. “Shall I see you at the Dress Ball at the Lower Rooms tomorrow night?”