Mr Griffin turned wretchedly to Sir Richard: “You see, sir, my mother—”
“Mistrusts me,” supplied Sir Richard.
“No, no, I assure you! My mother is sadly put out, and scarcely knows what she is saying.”
“I am in the fullest possession of my faculties, I thank you, Frederick!” said Mrs Griffin, gathering strength.
“Of course, of course, Mama! But the agitation—the natural agitation—”
“If he is speaking the truth,” interrupted Mrs Griffin, “let him summon his nephew to stand before me!”
“Ah, I begin to understand you!” said Sir Richard. “Is it possible, ma’am, that you suspect my nephew of being your errant ward?”
“No, no!” said Griffin feebly.
“Yes!” declared his mother.
“But Mama, only consider what such a thought must imply!” said Mr Griffin in a frenzied aside.
“I can believe anything of that unnatural creature!”
“I should doubt very much whether my nephew is upon the premises,” said Sir Richard coldly. “He was engaged to spend the day with friends, upon an expedition of pleasure. However, if he should not yet have left the house, I will engage to—er—allay all these heart burnings.”
“If he has run out to escape us, I shall await his return!” said Mrs Griffin. “And so I warn you!”
“I admire your resolution, ma’am, but I must point out to you that your movements are of no possible interest to me,” said Sir Richard, stepping over to the bell, and jerking it.
“Frederick!” said Mrs Griffin. “Will you stand by and hear your mother being insulted by one whom I strongly suspect of being a dandy?”
“But Mama, indeed, it is no concern of ours if he is!”
“Perhaps,” said Sir Richard, in arctic tones, “it may be of service if I make myself known to you, ma’am. My name is Wyndham.”
Mrs Griffin received this information with every appearance of disdain, but its effect upon her son was staggering. His eyes seemed to be in danger of bursting out of their sockets; he started forward, and ejaculated in tones of deepest reverence: “Sir! is this possible? Have I the honour of addressing Sir Richard Wyndham?”
Sir Richard bowed slightly.
“The celebrated Whip?” asked Mr Griffin.
Sir Richard bowed again.
“The creator of the Wyndham Fall?” pursued Mr Griffin, almost overcome.
Tired of bowing, Sir Richard said: “Yes.”
“Sir,” said Mr Griffin, “I am happy to make your acquaintance! My name is Griffin!”
“How do you do?” murmured Sir Richard, holding out his hand.
Mr Griffin clasped it. “I wonder I should not have recognized you. Mama, we have been quite mistaken. This is none other than the famous Sir Richard Wyndham—the friend of Brummell, you know! You must have heard me—you must have heard him spoken of. It is quite impossible that he can know anything of my cousin’s whereabouts.”
She seemed to accept this, though with obvious reluctance. She looked Sir Richard over with disfavour, and said paralysingly: “I have the greatest dislike of all forms of dandyism, and I have ever deplored the influence exerted by the Bow-Window set upon young men of respectable upbringing. However, if you are indeed Sir Richard Wyndham, I dare say you would not object to showing my son how to arrange his cravat in what he calls the Wyndham Fall, so that he need no longer spoil every neckcloth in his drawer before achieving a result which I consider lamentable.”
“Mama!” whispered the unhappy Mr Griffin. “I beg of you!”
The entrance of a servant, in answer to the bell’s summons, came as a timely interruption. Upon being asked to discover whether Sir Richard’s nephew were in the house, he was able to reply that the young gentleman had left the inn some time previously.
“Then I fear there is nothing for you to do but to await his return,” said Sir Richard, addressing himself to Mrs Griffin.
“We should not dream of—Mama, there can be no doubt that she—he—did not come here after all. Lady Luttrell disclaims all knowledge, remember, and she must certainly have known if my cousin had come into this neighbourhood.”
“If I could think that she had gone to cousin Jane, all would not yet be lost!” said Mrs Griffin. “Yet it is possible? I fear the worst!”
“This is all very perplexing,” complained Sir Richard. “I was under the impression that this mysterious truant was of the male sex.”
“Frederick, my nerves can stand no more!” said Mrs Griffin, surging to her feet. “If you mean to drag me the length of England again, I must insist upon being permitted the indulgence of half an hour’s solitude first!”
“But Mama, it was not I who would come here!” expostulated Mr Griffin.
Sir Richard again rang the bell, and this time desired that a chambermaid should be sent to him. Mrs Griffin was presently consigned to the care of an abigail, and left the room majestically, commanding hot water to wash with, tea, and a decent bedchamber.
Her son heaved a sigh of relief. “I must beg pardon, Sir Richard! You must allow me to beg your pardon!”
“Not at all,” said Sir Richard.
“Yes, yes, I insist! Such an unfortunate misunderstanding! An explanation is due to you! A slip of the tongue, you know, but my mother is labouring under strong emotion, and does not quite heed what she says. You noticed it: indeed, no one could wonder at your surprise! The unhappy truth, sir, is that my cousin is not a boy, but—in a word, sir—a female!”
“This explanation, Mr Griffin, is quite unnecessary, believe me.”
“Sir,” said Mr Griffin earnestly, “as a Man of the World, I should value your opinion! Concealment is useless: the truth must be discovered in the end. What, sir, would you think of a member of the Weaker Sex who assumed the disguise of a man, and left the home of her natural protector by way of the window?”
“I should assume,” replied Sir Richard, “that she had strong reasons for acting with such resolution.”
“She did not wish to marry me,” said Mr Griffin gloomily.
“Oh!” said Sir Richard.
“Well, I’m sure I can’t see why she should be so set against me, but that’s not it, sir. The thing is that here’s my mother determined to find her, and to make her marry me, and so hush up the scandal. But I don’t like it above half. If she dislikes the notion so much, I don’t think I ought to marry her, do you?”
“Emphatically not!”
“I must say I am very glad to hear you say that, Sir Richard!” said Mr Griffin, much cheered. “For you must know that my mother has been telling me ever since yesterday that I must marry her now, to save her name. But I think she would very likely make me uncomfortable, and nothing could make up for that, in my opinion.”
“A lady capable of escaping out of a window in the guise of a man would quite certainly make you more than uncomfortable,” said Sir Richard.
“Yes, though she’s only a chit of a girl, you know. In fact, she is not yet out. I am very happy to have had the benefit of the opinion of a Man of the World. I feel that I can rely on your judgment.”
“On my judgment you might, but in nothing else, I assure you,” said Sir Richard. “You know nothing of me, after all. How do you know that I am not now concealing your cousin from you?”
“Ha-ha! Very good, upon my word! Very good, indeed!” said Mr Griffin, saluting a jest of the first water.
Chapter 8
The Griffins did not leave Queen Charlton until the cool of the afternoon, and by the time he saw their chaise off the premises of the George, Sir Richard was heartily sick of the company of surely one of his most devout worshippers. No sign was seen of Pen, who had no doubt fled the house upon the Griffins’ arrival. What sustenance she had snatched up to bear her strength up through a long day, Sir Richard had no means of knowing.
Mrs Griffin, tottering downstairs to partake of light refreshment, found her son hanging upon Sir Richard’s bored lips. Upon hearing that he had divulged the secret of Pen’s identity, she first showed a dangerous tendency to swoon, but upon being supplied with a glass of ratafia by Sir Richard, revived sufficiently to pour out her wrongs into his ear.