In the course of a long and successful career, Skelton had gathered much experience of eccentric young gentlemen. He had not previously included Mr. Standen in this fraternity, and he was both grieved and shocked to find that his judgment had been so much at fault. But he concealed his feelings, and led the shrinking Miss Broughty to the Saloon, what time Mr. Standen trod lightly upstairs to his sister’s dressing-room.
“Good gracious, Freddy!” exclaimed Meg, when she saw him. “What now, pray?” A gleam of hope shone in her eyes. She cast aside the hat she was just about to set on her head, and said eagerly: “Oh, do you mean to tell me the secret after all?”
“Not that one,” responded Freddy. “Tell you another instead!” He perceived that she was looking affronted, and added: “Not bamming you! Wish I was! Dashed awkward business! Fact is, need your help.”
A little mollified, but still suspicious, she looked an enquiry.
“Got the Broughty girl downstairs,” said Freddy. “Put her in the Saloon.”
“Then I wish you will take her away again! I don’t want her!” said Meg, with asperity.
“That’s just it: I don’t want her either. Been thinking for some time I should have to get rid of her. Think I can do it! You knew that cousin of Kit’s was trying to fix his interest with her, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I know that Kitty was attempting to make up a match between them, but I think it most unsuitable!”
“No, it ain’t: best match she could make, if you ask me!”
“She! And what of the Chevalier, pray?”