“No, no, indeed he wouldn’t be!” she said, very much shocked. “But, surely, if that is the kind of life Mr Steane leads, he cannot wish to be saddled with Cherry? Why should he?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t mean to waste my time trying to hit upon the reason. What I want you to understand, Hetta, is that he means mischief, and dangerous mischief, what’s more! When I saw what his game was, and realized what a deuced unpleasant scandal he could start, if he accused Des of seducing that tiresome girl, promising to marry her, and then tipping her the double, I told him that so far from doing any of those things Des had placed her in the care of some old friends of ours, and had himself posted off to find her grandfather. He pretended that he didn’t believe it. He even had the curst insolence to say—Well, never mind that! So I was forced to tell him that the girl was residing with Lady Silverdale, who was a widow, moving in the first circles, and as starched-up as my father! I meant it for the best, Hetta, but it gave him the chance to land me a heavy facer. He asked me how it came about that such a lady had consented to receive into her house a girl brought to her by a man of Desford’s reputation—oh, yes! I was forgetting that piece of lying insolence! Des, you’ll be interested learn, is a rake and a libertine!—without her maid, or any other attendant!” He broke off suddenly, and jerked up his head, listening to the sound of an approaching carriage. “Oh, my God, here he is!” he said. Two strides took him to the window, and while Henrietta waited in some anxiety, he stood watching the chaise-and-pair until it drew up below the terrace. He then uttered a groan, and said: “Ay, it’s Steane all right and tight!”

“I was never nearer in my life to playing least-in-sight!” confessed Henrietta. “What am I to say to him, Simon? I promise you I am in a perfect quake!”

“No need for you to be in a quake!” answered Simon, in a heartening tone. “But there’s just one thing I must mention!”

“Yes, there is need! I’ve lost Cherry! And if she isn’t found—Oh, I do wish Desford were here!”

“For the lord’s sake, Hetta, don’t you get in a stew!” begged Simon, alarmed. “And as for Des—You know, I’ve been thinking about him, and it’s my belief he will be here! If he went to Bath, we know he reached the place behind Steane, don’t we?”

“Do we?” she said distractedly.

“Of course we do! Steane didn’t meet him there, and the schooldame, whatever her name may be, didn’t tell him she had seen him. All she told him was that Lady Bugle had fetched Cherry away, and had taken her to live with her. I wish you will take a damper, Hetta! If you mean to fly into the twitters we shall be bowled out!”

This severity had its effect. She said: “No, no, I promise you I won’t! But I find my mind is less strong than I believed it to be—in fact, it is all chaos! Oh, heavens, that is Grimshaw’s step! In another moment Mr Steane will be upon us!”

“No, he won’t. Grimshaw will show him into the library, and it won’t hurt him to kick his heels there for a while. Never mind him, just mind me! If Des visited Miss Thingummy after she’d seen Steane, what would he do? Drive back to London as fast as he could, of course!”

“Unless he followed Steane to Maplewood,” she said doubtfully.

“No,” said Simon, shaking his head. “I own I did think of that myself, but the more I consider the matter the more I feel he wouldn’t have done any such thing. Well, do but put yourself in his shoes, Hetta! He knew that Cherry wasn’t living with her aunt, and he must have known that the Bugles wouldn’t have encouraged that old court-card to linger in their house! I daresay he didn’t know that Lady Bugle had told Steane that he had ‘ravished’ her away, but he must have thought the chances were that Steane would have left that place before he could reach it.”

She had been regarding him intently, trying to get her thoughts into order, but at this she said quickly: “He did know that! Lady Emborough wrote to your mama, telling her that she had received a visit from Lady Bugle, demanding to know what Des had done with her niece, and I informed Des of it!”

“That settles it, then!” said Simon. “Des would have returned to London immediately! And when he reached Arlington Street Aldham gave him the letter I scribbled—there can be no doubt about that!—and as soon as he had read it it’s Carlton House to a Charley’s shelter that he set out instantly to join me here. I shouldn’t wonder at it if he were to arrive at any minute!”

He was interrupted by Grimshaw, who came in to announce Mr Steane’s arrival, but when Grimshaw had withdrawn, he said: “There’s just one more thing I must warn you about, Hetta! Well, as a matter of fact, it’s why I rode out here as fast as I could! Steane thinks you’re betrothed to Des.”

Henrietta had been tidying her ruffled hair in front of the mirror, but at this she turned, showing Simon a startled face. “Thinks I’m betrothed to Des? Why should he think anything of the sort?”

“Well,” said Simon, a trifle conscience-stricken, “I told him you were!”

“Simon!” she uttered “wrathfully. “How could you have told him so when you must know there isn’t a word of truth in it?”

“It was the only thing I could hit upon to account for Lady Silverdale’s having received Cherry, under such dashed havey-cavey circumstances,” he explained. “And also it seemed to me the surest way of sending him to grass, if it came to an action for breach of promise. Well, it stands to reason that if Des was betrothed to you he wouldn’t have offered another female marriage, or brought her to visit you!”

“I think it was an infamous thing to have done!” she said, those expressive eyes of hers flaming with anger.

“No, no!” he assured her. “Only thing I could do! I promise you Desford won’t care a straw!”

“Desford!” she said chokingly. “And what about me, pray?”

“Hang it all!” he protested. “Why should you care either? Ten to one it won’t leak out, because unless I’m much mistaken Steane don’t mean to stay in England a day longer than he need. Besides, I told him the engagement hadn’t been announced yet—I said that was on account of my father’s health, by the by: not stout enough yet for dress-parties—so if he does blab it abroad you have only to deny it, or cry off, if you prefer.”

“Oh, how abominable you are! I’ll never forgive you for this!” she told him, an indignant flush reddening her cheeks.

“Well, never mind that!” he said, in a consolatory tone. “If I’d guessed you might object to it, I wouldn’t have done it, but I did do it, and there’s nothing for it but to stick to it. You must see that, Hetta!”

“I don’t!” she snapped.

“Do you mean to say that you’re going to tell Steane you ain’t engaged to Des?” he gasped. “Of all the shabby things to do! I wouldn’t have believed it of you! I thought you was too much of a right one to run away just when poor old Des most needs your help! Turning missish at such a moment! Dashed well stabbing him in the back!”

“Oh, be quiet!” she said crossly. “If this horrible creature is rag-mannered enough to ask me, I shan’t deny it. But what I shall do, Mr Simon Carrington, is to give you your own again!”

“That’s the hammer!” he said encouragingly. “I knew I could depend on you! Always said you were as sound as a trout! Now, you go and hold up your nose at that oily old rascal—and take care you don’t let him guess I’m here, for it won’t do if he realizes I came to warn you!”

With these kindly words, he patted her on the shoulder, and held open the door for her, meeting the scathing glance she threw at him with eyes brimming with laughter.

He then shut the door again, and retired to the broad window-seat to await the arrival of his brother. He had no doubt that Desford would arrive; the only doubt it was possible for one of his sanguine temperament to entertain was whether Desford would reach Inglehurst in time to deal with Mr Wilfred Steane before poor Hetta had been driven into the last ditch. But the longer he pondered over the question the more convinced did he become that Desford would arrive in time to take the management of what (damn it all!) were his affairs, not his brother’s, or Hetta’s, into his own hands. It wouldn’t be like Des not to make all haste to their rescue, he decided.

And his confidence was justified. Twenty minutes after Henrietta had joined Mr Steane in the library a postchaise-and-four swept round the bend in the avenue, and brought young Mr Carrington to his feet. So sure was he that its passenger was Desford that he did not wait to watch the steps being let down, but went hastily out into the hall, and intercepted Grimshaw, who was treading majestically across it towards the door. “No need for you to trouble yourself!” he said. “It’s only my brother! I’ll let him in!”

Grimshaw looked at once surprised and disapproving, but he bowed, and went back to his own quarters, reflecting that Mr Simon always was a regrettably harum-scarum young man, much too prone to brush aside the ordinary conventions of Polite Society.

Simon went bounding down the steps just as Desford alighted from the chaise, and called out: “Lord, am I glad to see you, Des! You old slip-gibbet!”

“I’ll be bound you are,” said the Viscount, receiving this unflattering appellation, and the playful punch to his ribs which accompanied it, as marks of affection, which, indeed, they were. “I’m much obliged to you, bantling: no reason why you should be called upon to enter into this imbroglio!”

“Oh, gammon!” said Simon. “A pretty fellow I should be to have given you the bag! And a rare hank you’d be in if I had, let me tell you!” He lowered his voice, and said seriously: “It’s worse than you know, Des.”

“Good God, is it?” He nodded to his head postilion, saying briefly: “I don’t know how long I shall be: probably an hour or two. We shall spend the night at Wolversham.” He turned back to Simon, as the chaise moved on towards the stables, and asked: “Has Steane arrived yet?”

“Yes, about half-an-hour ago. He’s with Hetta, in the library.”

“Then I had best lose no time in joining them.”

“Oh, yes, you had, dear boy!” said Simon, acquiring a firm grip on his arm. “What you had best do is to listen to what I have to tell you, if you don’t wish to make mice feet of the business! We’ll take a little stroll along the terrace, as far as that damned uncomfortable stone seat, where we shan’t be overheard.”

“If you’re going to tell me that Steane is a fat rascal, I know it already. I visited Miss Fletching the day after Steane had been there, bullocking her until the poor lady succumbed to an attack of the vapours. I don’t know what upset her most: the thundering scolds she got from him, or the discovery that he had grown very fat. From what she said to me, I’d no difficulty in gathering that he hasn’t altered since the days when he was obliged to fly the country. What’s his lay? Card-sharping?”

“Undoubtedly, I should think, though I daresay he ain’t particular. Any form of flat-catching, from the looks of him! His present lay, my boy, is to compel you to marry his precious daughter!”

The Viscount burst out laughing. “Well, he’ll be queered on that suit!”

“If I were you, Des, I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” said Simon.

“My dear lad, I am quite certain of it! I met her for the first time at a ball the Bugles gave, and had a conversation with her; on the following day I encountered her on my way to London, took her up into my curricle, and conveyed her first to London, and then brought her here, since when I haven’t laid eyes on her. So if Steane has any notion of accusing me of having seduced her the sooner he rids himself of it the better it will be for him.” He saw that Simon was looking unusually grave, and said, in a little amusement: “I’m not shamming it, you know!”

“Well, of course I know it! But this fellow could make nasty mischief. What if he set it about that you stole Cherry away from her aunt’s house, under a promise to marry her?”

“Good God, is he as bad as that?”

Simon nodded. “I daresay you could disprove a charge of having made off with her, and kept her until you was tired of her—”

“What, in one day? Doing it too brown, Simon!”

“The point is can you prove it was only one day? I shouldn’t think that Bugle woman would support you: she’s already told Steane you ravished Cherry out of the house. Seems one of her daughters overheard what you and Cherry were saying, on the night of that ball.”

“Well, she didn’t overhear me trying to persuade Cherry to run off with me. And considering upwards of half-a-dozen people saw me leave Hazelfield some time after breakfast on the following morning, and the Silverdales took charge of Cherry that same evening, I don’t think that cock will fight!”