“Worth goes to Brighton himself on the 12th,” he warned her.
“It would give me infinite pleasure to meet him on the road.”
. “Lord, I would give a monkey to see his face! But do you think you should? Will it not be remarked on?”
“Oh,” she said, curling her lip. “The rich Miss Taverner is expected to astonish the world.”
“Ay, very true; so it is! Well, I am game. It’s time Worth tasted our mettle. We have been too easy with him, and he begins to interfere beyond what is reasonable.”
“No word of it to Maria!” she said. “Not a murmur!” he promised gaily. Mrs. Scattergood, in ignorance of what was in store, and believing herself to have checkmated her charge, set about the business of departure in a mood of considerable complacence. Had she guessed that Miss Taverner’s meek acquiescence in all her plans sprang from nothing but a desire to allay any suspicions she might nourish, her peace would have been quite cut up. But she had never come up against Miss Taverner’s will, and had no idea of its strength. In happy unconcern she went about her affairs, instructed the housekeeper what chairs and sofas must be put into holland-covers, arranged for the servants they were to take with them to leave Brook Street not later than seven o’clock in the morning, and gave orders for the chaise that was to convey herself and Miss Taverner to be brought round at noon. The momentous day dawned. At ten o’clock Miss Taverner, dressed in her habit, and with a handful of spare whip-points thrust through one of her buttonholes, walked into her bedroom where she was fluttering about in the midst of bandboxes and valises, and said coolly: “Well, ma’am, I shall see you presently, I trust. I wish you a pleasant journey.”
Mrs. Scattergood cast one aghast glance at her, and cried: “Good God! what does this mean? Why have you put on your habit? What are you going to do?”
“Why, Ma’am, I have engaged to race Perry to Brighton, driving the other curricle,” said Miss Taverner, preparing to depart.
“Judith!” shrieked Mrs. Scattergood, sitting down plump upon her best bonnet.
Miss Taverner put her head round the door again. “Don’t be uneasy, Maria; I can out-drive Perry. I beg you won’t forget to send word of it to Lord Worth, if he should still be in town.”