“As a matter of fact,” said Bertram airily, “hedon’t know I’m here.”
“Doesn’t know you’re here?” cried Arabella.
Mr. Scunthorpe cleared his throat. “Given him the bag,” he explained. He added: “Only thing to do.”
Arabella turned her eyes wonderingly towards her brother. He looked a little guilty, but said: “No, you can’t say I’ve given him the bag!”
Mr. Scunthorpe corrected himself. “Hoaxed him.”
Bertram seemed to be about to take exception to this, too, but after beginning to refute it he broke off, and said: “Well, in a way I suppose I did.”
“Bertram, you must be mad!” cried Arabella, pale with dismay. “When Papa knows you are in town, and without leave—”
“The thing is he won’t know it,” interrupted Bertram. “I wrote a letter to Mama, telling her I had met my friend Felix, and he had invited me to stay with him. So they won’t be in a fret when I don’t go back immediately, and they won’t know where I am, because I didn’t give my direction. And that brings me to what I particularly want to warn you about, Bella! I’m going by the name of Anstey while I’m in town, and while I don’t mind if you tell this godmother of yours that I’m a friend of yours, you are not to say I’m your brother! She’d be bound to write and tell my mother, and then the fat would be in the fire!”
“But, Bertram, how can you dare? ” asked Arabella, in an awed voice. “Papa will be so angry!”
“Yes, I know. I shall get a rare trimming, but I shall have had a bang-up time first, and I can stand a lick or two after,” said Bertram cheerfully. “I made up my mind I’d do it, before you came to town. Do you remember my telling you that you might get a surprise? I’ll swear you never thought this would be it!”