“A man, Chock, a man! it’s a him that pulls the strings, girl, and all we’ve to do is to simper and jerk this way, that way. To think,” here Peggy’s voice falters, for they’ve gained the house and are clambering the back stairs in the dark. “To think that Bickers, Bickers! should ha’ made me treat my worshiped Percy like a hog! Yes, Chockey, like a hog! even that name ain’t vile enough for me. But, oh, an I reach London in safety, and gain my brother’s chambers, and learn from him that ’tis for very love of me Sir Percy’s canterin’ to perdition, then, Chock, Lady Peggy’ll know how to spell paradise for him she’s riskin’ much to hear the truth about.”
“But, My Lady,” ventures Chockey, who, notwithstanding the blissful prospect of seeing London, still had a practical eye toward the dangers that beset the path, both thereto, and once there.
“But, My Lady, supposin’ we can’t find Lord Kennaston’s lodgin’s; supposin’ he’s away from home when we get there; or, a-havin’ a party, or ain’t got no place for us to sleep; or suppose—”
“Suppose me no supposes, Chock!” Lady Peggy shakes out the Levantine gown from its wrinkles. “If London were the black pit, and an army of Satans a-sittin’ grinnin’ around the brim, still would I go and find out for myself if it’s for me he pines—or, if Lady Diana Weston is up in London too!” With which Her Ladyship gives the petticoat, she takes from its peg against the morrow, a somewhat emphatic, not to say malicious shake.
III
Wherein is recounted how Her Ladyship set
forth, accompanied by her faithful