Her eyes searched his face. “What would you do with him?” she demanded.
“I haven’t the smallest notion,” he confessed. “I hope you may be going to tell me what I am to do with him, Miss Tallant.”
“If I let you take him, you would throw him on the Parish, like Lord Fleetwood!” she said bitterly.
His lordship uttered an inarticulate protest.
“I have a great many faults,” replied Mr. Beaumaris, “but, believe me, you may trust my pledged word! I will neither throw him on the Parish, nor restore him to his master.”
“You must be mad!” exclaimed Frederick.
“You would naturally think so,” said Mr. Beaumaris, flicking him with one of his disdainful glances.
“Have you considered what people would be bound to say?” Frederick said.
“No, nor do I propose to burden my head with anything that interests me so little!” retorted Mr. Beaumaris.
Arabella said in a softened voice: “If you mean it, indeed, sir, you will be doing the very kindest thing—perhaps the best thing you have ever done, and, oh, I thank you!”