Aunt Matty is Cross.
Sir Hampton started as his eyes fell upon Trevor, and his pink complexion began to grow red.
“Oh, Fin!” whispered Tiny, heedless of the admiring gaze of Vanleigh, who now advanced; while after saluting Lady Rea, Landells turned to Fin.
“This is Mr Trevor, called to see us, dear,” said Lady Rea.
“Er-rum!” went Sir Hampton, and he bristled visibly; but Trevor approached with extended hand.
“Sir Hampton,” he said, “I came to apologise for my very hasty behaviour to you. I’m afraid I gave you a very bad opinion of your neighbour.”
“Er-rum! I—er? I—er-rum,” said and coughed Sir Hampton, hesitating; but there was the hand of amity stretched out, and he was obliged to take it—moving with great dignity, and looking at Trevor as if he had just pardoned a malefactor for committing some heinous crime.
“Didn’t ’spect to see; here,” said Sir Felix, making play with his glass at everybody in turn.
“The surprise is mutual,” said Trevor.
“Odd coincidence,” said Vanleigh, who had crossed now to Miss Matilda, like a good diplomatist. “We were walking, after you ran away from us, and met Sir Hampton.”
“Er-rum—Mr Trevor,” said Sir Hampton, pompously, “I am in your debt; your friends here were kind enough to give my daughters and myself the use of your carriage after a very—er-rum—narrow escape from a terrible—er-rum—catastrophe. I am very much obliged.”
“Don’t name it, Sir Hampton, pray,” said Trevor. “Out here in this place, we are all obliged to rely upon one another for a little help. I shall have to beg favours of you, some day, I hope.”
“Er-rum—you are very good,” said Sir Hampton, stiffly.
“Yes, Hampton, dear,” said Lady Rea, “Mr Trevor is really very kind: he has promised us a lot of those beautiful gladioli that you admired so when you went over Penreife grounds.”
Sir Hampton bowed to Trevor, and looked daggers at his wife, who glanced then at Fin, as much as to say—“What have I done now!”
“A particularly fine specimen, I should say,” Vanleigh was heard to remark. “Do you think so?” said Miss Matilda.
“I should say perfectly pure,” said Vanleigh, stooping to caress Pepine, who snarled and tried to bite.
“Fie, Pepine, then!” said Miss Matilda. “Don’t be afraid of him, Captain Vanleigh.”
“I am not,” said Vanleigh, showing his white teeth, and taking the terrier in his hands. “Look here, Landells, what should you say of this dog?”
Sir Felix fixed his glass, and crossed to his friend.
“’Markably fine terrier,” said Sir Felix, “most decidedly.”
And he touched Pepine, and was bitten spitefully on the glove.
“You remember the dog you sent to the Palace Show?”
“’Member perfectly,” said Sir Felix; “splen’ collection.”
“But did you see a finer bred specimen than that—say frankly?”
“Nothing like it; ’fectly sure of it.”
“There, Miss Rea,” said Vanleigh, “and Landells is one of the finest amateur judges of dogs in the country.”
“Is he really?” said Miss Matilda, smiling.
“Oh yes,” said Vanleigh. “What should you think that dog was worth, Landells?”
“Any money,” said Sir Felix; “five at least.”
“But I gave ten pounds for it,” said Miss Matilda, indignantly.
“Exactly,” said Vanleigh. “Then you obtained it at a great bargain.”
“But he said five pounds,” said Miss Matilda.
“Exactly, my dear madam,” said Vanleigh. “That is the judge’s fashion—five pounds a paw; twenty pounds.”
“Oh, I see!” said Miss Matilda, and Trevor turned aside, for he had encountered Fin’s laughing eyes, and her pinched-up mouth had said dumbly—
“My! What a fib!”
After a little more conversation, the trio took their leave, and there was peace between the dwellers at Penreife and Tolcarne for many days to come.
“Er-rum,” said Sir Hampton, as soon as they were alone. “I am not very agreeably impressed with this Mr Trevor.”
“Aren’t you, dear?” said Lady Rea; “and I thought him such a nice, gentlemanly, frank fellow, and so did the girls.”
“Sadly wanting in manners,” said Aunt Matty. “Quite as you said, Hampton—rough and uncultivated.”
Sir Hampton nodded his head approvingly.
“But he don’t call out ‘avast!’ and ‘Ship ahoy!’ and ‘Haul in slack,’ as you said he would, aunty,” said Fin.
“Finetta, I never made use of any such language,” said Miss Matilda.
“Then it must have been I,” said Fin. “I know somebody said so.”
“Most gentlemanly men the friends you introduced, Hampton—especially Captain Vanleigh.”
“And the dog-fancier with the glass,” put in Fin, in an undertone; but her aunt heard her.
“Hampton,” she said, viciously, “I am unwilling to make complaints, but I am sorry to say that the treatment I receive from Finetta is anything but becoming. Several times this afternoon her remarks to me have been such as when I was a little girl I should never have thought of using, and I should have been severely reprimanded if I had said a tithe.”
“Why, I thought tithes were parsons’ payments, aunty,” said Fin, merrily; and Aunt Matty stopped short, Lady Rea turned away to smile, and Sir Hampton actually chuckled.
Miss Matilda gathered up her skirts, and taking Pepine under her arm, was marching out of the room.
“Please, aunt, I’m very sorry,” said Fin. “I’m afraid I’m a very naughty little girl, and shall have to be punished—Papa, can I have any dinner?”
“Er-rum. Matilda,” said Sir Hampton, “I am going on the lawn. Will you come?”
Aunt Matty was mollified, and took his arm.
“You shouldn’t, Fin, indeed,” said Tiny.
“My darling, I must beg of you not,” said Lady Rea, piteously.
“Then she shan’t snub my darling, dear mamma,” said Fin, kissing her. “I’m never saucy to Aunt Matty only when she says rude things to you; treating me like a child, too! Oh, mamma, if you ever find me growing into a sour old maid, pray poison me with something hidden in a spoonful of currant jam.”