Truly?'
His gaze travelled slowly over her borrowed raiment. 'Horrible!' he said. 'Are you under the impression that you have tied that—that travesty of a cravat in a Wyndham Fall?'
'No, but the thing is I have never tied a cravat before,' she explained.
'That,' said Sir Richard, 'is obvious. Come here!'
She approached obediently, and stood still while his expert fingers wrought with the crumpled folds round her neck.
'No, it is beyond even my skill,' he said at last. 'I shall have to lend you one of mine. Never mind; sit down, and let us talk this matter over. My recollection is none of the clearest, but I fancy you said you were going into Somerset to marry a friend of your childhood.'
'Yes, Piers Luttrell,' nodded Miss Creed, seating herself in a large arm-chair.
'Furthermore, you are just seventeen.'
'Turned seventeen,' she corrected.
'Don't quibble! And you propose to undertake this journey as a passenger on an Accommodation coach?'
'Yes,' agreed Miss Creed.
'And, as though this were not enough, you are going alone?'
'Of course I am.'
'My dear child,' said Sir Richard, 'drunk I may be, but not so drunk as to acquiesce in this fantastic scheme, believe me.'
'I don't think you are drunk,' said Miss Creed. 'Besides, it has nothing to do with you! You cannot interfere in my affairs merely because you helped me out of the window.'
'I didn't help you out of the window. Something tells me I ought to restore you to the bosom of your family.'
Miss Creed turned rather white, and said in a small, but very clear voice: 'If you did that it would be the most cruel—the most treacherous thing in the world!'
'I suppose it would,' he admitted.
There was a pause. Sir Richard unfobbed his snuff-box with a flick of one practised finger, and took a pinch. Miss Creed swallowed, and said: 'If you had ever seen my cousin, you would understand.'
He glanced down at her, but said nothing.
'He has a wet mouth,' said Miss Creed despairingly.
'That settles it,' said Sir Richard, shutting his snuff-box. 'I will escort you to your childhood's friend.'
Miss Creed blushed. 'You? But you can't!'
'Why can't I?'
'Because—because I don't know you, and I can very well go by myself, and—well, it's quite absurd! I see now that you are drunk.'
'Let me inform you,' said Sir Richard, 'that missish airs don't suit those clothes. Moreover, I don't like them. Either you will travel to Somerset in my company, or you will go back to your aunt. Take your choice!'
'Do please consider!' begged Miss Creed. 'You know I am obliged to travel in the greatest secrecy. If you went with me, no one would know what had become of you.'
'No one would know what had become of me,' repeated Sir Richard slowly. 'No one—my girl, you have no longer any choice: I am going with you to Somerset!'
Chapter 3
A s no argument produced the least effect on Sir Richard's suddenly reckless mood, Miss Creed abandoned her conscientious attempt to dissuade him from accompanying her on her journey, and owned that his protection would be welcome. 'It is not that I am afraid to go by myself,' she explained, 'but, to tell you the truth, I am not quite used to do things all alone.'
'I should hope,' said Sir Richard, 'that you are not quite used to travelling in the common stage either.'
'No, of course I am not. It will be quite an adventure! Have you ever travelled by stage-coach?'
'Never. We shall travel post'
'Travel post? You must be mad!' exclaimed Miss Creed. 'I dare say you are known at every posting-inn on the Bath road. We should be discovered in a trice. Why, I had thought of all that even before you made up your mind to join me! My cousin Frederick is too stupid to think of anything, but my Aunt Almeria is not, and I make no doubt she will guess that I have run away to my own home, and follow me. This is one of the reasons why I made up my mind to journey in the stage. She will enquire for me at the posting-houses, and no one will be able to give her