"What will you do, my dear?"
"What will I do? How am I to say what I will do? If I were standing near him with a knife in my hand I would stick it into his heart. I would! Mistaken him! Liar! They talk of girls lying; but what girl would lie like that?"
"But something must be done."
"If papa were not such a fool as he is, he could manage it all for me," said Arabella dutifully. "I must see my father and I must dictate a letter for him. Where is papa?"
"In London, I suppose."
"You must come up to London with me to-morrow. We shall have to go to his club and get him out. It must be done immediately; and then I must see Lord Mistletoe, and I will write to the Duke."
"Would it not be better to write to your papa?" said Lady Augustus, not liking the idea of being dragged away so quickly from comfortable quarters.
"No; it wouldn't. If you won't go I shall, and you must give me some money. I shall write to Lord Rufford too."
And so it was at last decided, the wretched old woman being dragged away up to London on some excuse which the Connop Greens were not sorry to accept. But on that same afternoon Arabella wrote to Lord Rufford.
Your letter has amazed me. I cannot understand it. It seems to be almost impossible that it should really have come from you. How can you say that I have mistaken you? There has been no mistake. Surely that letter cannot have been written by you.
Of course I have been obliged to tell my father everything.
Arabella.