“To Gretna Green, of course.”
“Oh, I could not! Only think of the scandal!”
“I do think you should try not to be so poor-spirited. However, I dare say you can’t help it.”
“You are the rudest boy I ever met!” exclaimed Lydia, “I declare I wish I had not sent for you!”
“So do I, because this seems to me a silly story, and not in the least my concern,” said Pen frankly. “Oh, pray don’t start to cry! There, I am sorry! I didn’t mean to be unkind! But why did you send for me?”
“Because, though you are rude and horrid, you did not seem to me like other young men, and I thought you would understand, and not take advantage of me.”
Pen gave a sudden mischievous chuckle. “I shan’t do that, at all events! Oh dear, I am getting so hungry! Do tell me why you sent for me!”
Miss Daubenay dabbed her eyes with a wisp of a handkerchief. “I was so distracted last night I scarce knew what I was doing! And when I reached home, the most dreadful thing happened! Papa saw me! Oh, sir, he accused me of having gone out to meet P—to meet my betrothed, and said I should be packed off again to Bath this very day, to stay with my Great-Aunt Augusta. The horridest, most disagreeable old woman! Nothing but backgammon, and spying, and everything of the most hateful! Sir, I felt myself to be in desperate case! Indeed, I said it before I had time to recollect the consequences!”
“Said what?” asked Pen, patient but bored.
Miss Daubenay bowed her head again. “That it was not—not that man I had gone to meet, but another, whom I had met in Bath, when I was sent to Great-Aunt Augusta to—to cure me of what Papa called my infatuation! I said I had been in the habit of meeting this other man c-clandestinely, because I thought that would make Papa afraid to send me back to Bath, and might perhaps even reconcile him to the Real Man.”