“That’s settled, then,” said Lord Marshmoreton masterfully. “Go to the theatre and tell them–tell whatever is usual in these cases. And then go home and pack, and meet me at Waterloo at six o’clock. The train leaves at six-fifteen.”
“Return of the wanderer, accompanied by dizzy blonde! You’ve certainly got it all fixed, haven’t you! Do you think the family will stand for me?”
“Damn the family!” said Lord Marshmoreton, stoutly.
“There’s one thing,” said Billie complacently, eyeing her reflection in the mirror of her vanity-case, “I may glitter in the fighting-top, but it is genuine. When I was a kid, I was a regular little tow-head.”
“I never supposed for a moment that it was anything but genuine.”
“Then you’ve got a fine, unsuspicious nature, dadda, and I admire you for it.”
“Six o’clock at Waterloo,” said the earl. “I will be waiting for you.”
Billie regarded him with affectionate admiration.
“Boys will be boys,” she said. “All right. I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER 22.
“Young blighted Albert,” said Keggs the butler, shifting his weight so that it distributed itself more comfortably over the creaking chair in which he reclined, “let this be a lesson to you, young feller me lad.”
The day was a week after Lord Marshmoreton’s visit to London, the hour six o’clock. The housekeeper’s room, in which the upper servants took their meals, had emptied. Of the gay company which had just finished dinner only Keggs remained, placidly digesting. Albert, whose duty it was to wait on the upper servants, was moving to and fro, morosely collecting the plates and glasses. The boy was in no happy frame of mind. Throughout dinner the conversation at table had dealt almost exclusively with the now celebrated elopement of Reggie Byng and his bride, and few subjects could have made more painful listening to Albert.
“What’s been the result and what I might call the upshot,” said Keggs, continuing his homily, “of all your making yourself so busy and thrusting of yourself forward and meddling in the affairs of your elders and betters? The upshot and issue of it ‘as been that you are out five shillings and nothing to show for it. Five shillings what you might have spent on some good book and improved your mind! And goodness knows it wants all the improving it can get, for of all the worthless, idle little messers it’s ever been my misfortune to have dealings with, you are the champion. Be careful of them plates, young man, and don’t breathe so hard. You ‘aven’t got hasthma or something, ‘ave you?”
“I can’t breathe now!” complained the stricken child.
“Not like a grampus you can’t, and don’t you forget it.” Keggs wagged his head reprovingly. “Well, so your Reggie Byng’s gone and eloped, has he! That ought to teach you to be more careful another time ‘ow you go gambling and plunging into sweepstakes. The idea of a child of your age ‘aving the audacity to thrust ‘isself forward like that!”
“Don’t call him my Reggie Byng! I didn’t draw ‘im!”
“There’s no need to go into all that again, young feller. You accepted ‘im freely and without prejudice when the fair exchange was suggested, so for all practical intents and purposes he is your Reggie Byng. I ‘ope you’re going to send him a wedding-present.”
“Well, you ain’t any better off than me, with all your ‘ighway robbery!”
“My what!”
“You ‘eard what I said.”
“Well, don’t let me ‘ear it again. The idea! If you ‘ad any objections to parting with that ticket, you should have stated them clearly at the time. And what do you mean by saying I ain’t any better off than you are?”
“I ‘ave my reasons.”
“You think you ‘ave, which is a very different thing. I suppose you imagine that you’ve put a stopper on a certain little affair by surreptitiously destroying letters entrusted to you.”
“I never!” exclaimed Albert with a convulsive start that nearly sent eleven plates dashing to destruction.
“‘Ow many times have I got to tell you to be careful of them plates?” said Keggs sternly. “Who do you think you are–a juggler on the ‘Alls, ‘urling them about like that? Yes, I know all about that letter. You thought you was very clever, I’ve no doubt. But let me tell you, young blighted Albert, that only the other evening ‘er ladyship and Mr. Bevan ‘ad a long and extended interview in spite of all your hefforts. I saw through your little game, and I proceeded and went and arranged the meeting.”