Arabella stood turned to stone as all the implications of her surroundings burst upon her. Mr. Beaumaris’s soothing assurance to her that they would not elope now became invested with the most sinister significance, and it was a pathetically white and frightened face which she turned towards him. He smiled at her, but before either of diem had time to speak, the butler had informed Mr. Beaumaris that he would find the Yellow Saloon in readiness; and a most respectable-looking housekeeper, with neat white hair under a starched cap, had appeared upon the scene, and was dropping a curtsy to Arabella.
“Good-evening, miss! Good-evening, Mr. Robert! Please to take Miss into the saloon, while I see that the maids unpack her trunk! You will find a nice fire, for I am sure Miss must be chilled, after the drive, so late as it is. Let me take your cloak, miss! I shall bring you up a glass of hot milk directly: I am sure you will be glad of it.”
The promise of a glass of hot milk, which hardly seemed to be in keeping with the hideous vision of seduction and rape which had leapt to her mind, a little reassured Arabella. One of the footmen had thrown open a door at the back of the hall; Mr. Beaumaris possessed himself of a trembling, icy little hand, and said: “I want to make you known to Mrs. Watchet, my love, who is a very old friend of mine. Indeed, one of my earliest allies!”
“Now, Master Robert! I’m sure I am very happy to see you here, miss—and mind, now, don’t let Master Robert keep you out of your bed till all hours!”
The fear that Master Robert had quite different intentions receded still farther. Arabella summoned up a smile, said something in a shy little voice, and allowed herself to be led into a saloon, fitted up in the first style of elegance, and offering her all the comfort of a small fire, burning in a brightly polished grate.
The door was softly closed behind them; Mr. Beaumaris drew a chair invitingly forward, and said: “Come and sit down, Miss Tallant! You know, I cannot but be glad that you have decided after all not to elope with me. To tell you the truth, there is one circumstance at least that makes me reluctant to proceed with youto Scotland—a journey that would occupy six or seven days, I daresay, before we found ourselves back in London.”
“Oh!” said Arabella, sitting down primly on the edge of the chair, and regarding him out of scared, doubtful eyes.
“Yes,” said Mr. Beaumaris. “Ulysses!”
Her eyes widened. “Ulysses?” she repeated blankly.
“The animal you were so obliging as to bestow upon me,” he explained. “Most unfortunately, he has developed so marked a predilection for my society that he frets himself to skin and bone if I am absent from him for more than a night. I did not quite like to bring him with me upon our elopement, for I can discover no precedent for taking a dog with one upon such an occasion, and one scarcely cares to violate the conventions at such a moment.”
The door opened just then to admit Mrs. Watchet, who came in, carrying a glass of steaming milk on a silver tray. This, with a plate of macaroons, she set down on a small table at Arabella’s elbow, telling her that when she had drunk it, and said goodnight to Master Robert, she should be escorted upstairs to her bed-chamber. With a slightly severe injunction to Mr. Beaumaris not to keep Miss talking to him too long, she then curtsied herself out of the room.
“Sir!” said Arabella desperately, as soon as they were alone again: “What is this house to which you have brought me?”
“I have brought you to my grandmother’s house, at Wimbledon,” he replied. “She is a very old lady, and keeps early hours, so you must forgive her for not being downstairs to receive you. You will meet her tomorrow morning. My aunt, who lives with her, would undoubtedly have sat up to receive you had she not gone a few days ago to stay with one of her sisters for a short time.”
“Your grandmother’s house?” exclaimed Arabella, almost starting from her chair. “Good God, why have you brought me to such a place, Mr. Beaumaris?”
“Well, you know,” he explained, “I could not but feel that it was possible you might think better of that notion of eloping. Of course, if, after a night’s repose, you still believe we should go to Gretna Green, I assure you I shall escort you there, whatever Ulysses’ claims upon me may be. For myself, the more I consider the matter, the more I am convinced that we should do better to steel ourselves to meet the felicitations of our friends, and announce our betrothal in the columns of the society journals in the accepted manner.”
“Mr. Beaumaris,” interrupted Arabella, pale but resolute, “I cannot marry you!” She added, on another of her small sobs: “I don’t know why you should ever have wanted to marry me, but—”
“I have lost my entire fortune on ’Change, and must instantly repair it,” he interrupted promptly.
Arabella rose jerkily, and confronted him. “I have not a penny in the world!” she announced.
“In that case,” responded Mr. Beaumaris, maintaining his calm, “you really have no choice in the matter: you must obviously marry me. Since we are being frank with one another, I will confess that my fortune is still intact.”
“I deceived you! I am not an heiress!” Arabella said, feeling that he could not have understood her words.
“You never deceived me for a moment,” said Mr. Beaumaris, smiling at her in a way which made her tremble still more violently.
“I lied to you!” cried Arabella, determined to bring him to a sense of her iniquities.
“Most understandable,” agreed Mr. Beaumaris. “But I am really quite uninterested in heiresses.”
“Mr. Beaumaris,” said Arabella earnestly, “the whole of London believes me to be a wealthy woman!”
“Yes, and since the whole of London must certainly continue in that belief, you have, as I have already pointed out to you, no choice but to marry me,” he said. “My fortune, happily, is so large that your lack of fortune need never be suspected.”
“Oh, why didn’t you tell me you knew the truth?” she cried, wringing her hands.
He possessed himself of them, and held them lightly. “My dearest goose, why didn’t you trust me, when I assured you that you might?” he countered. “I have cherished throughout the belief that you would confide in me, and you see I was quite right. So certain was I that you would not, when the time actually came, run off with me in this absurd fashion, that I visited my grandmother yesterday, and told her the whole story. She was very much diverted, and commanded me to bring you to stay for a few days with her. I hope you will not object to this: she frightens half the world, but you will have me to support you through the ordeal.”
Arabella pulled her hands resolutely away, and turned from him to hide her quivering lips, and suffused eyes. “It is worse than you know!” she said, in a stifled tone. “When you know all the truth, you will not wish to marry me! I have been worse than untruthfuclass="underline" I have been shameless! I can never marry you, Mr. Beaumaris!”
“This is most disturbing,” he said. “Not only have I sent the notice of our betrothal to the Gazette, and the Morning Post, but I have obtained your father’s consent to our marriage.”