“Of course he won’t betray you!” declared Bertram. “What in thunder have you been about, Bella?”
“Bertram, everyone believes me to be a great heiress!” disclosed Arabella, in a stricken tone.
He stared at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “You goosecap! I’ll wager they don’t! Why, Lady Bridlington knows you are not! You don’t meant that she put such a tale about?”
She shook her head. “ I said it!” she confessed.
“ You said it? What the devil made you do such a thing? However, I don’t suppose anyone believed you!”
“They do believe it. Lord Bridlington says that every gazetted fortune-hunter in town is dangling after me—and, oh, Bertram, it is true! I have refused five offers already!”
The idea that there could be found five gentlemen ready to marry his sister struck Bertram as being exquisitely humorous, and he went off into another burst of laughter. Arabella was obliged to confess the whole, since he seemed so incredulous. Her narrative was rather disjointed, since he interpolated so many questions; and at one point a considerable digression was caused by Mr. Scunthorpe, who, having regarded her fixedly for some moments, suddenly became loquacious, and said: “Beg pardon, ma’am, but did you say Mr. Beaumaris?”
“Yes. He and Lord Fleetwood.”
“The Nonpareil?”
“Yes.”