“Oh yes, sir!” she assured him, adding with another giggle: “Though the master would tear me limb from limb if he knew I was taking letters to you, sir.”
Piers ignored this somewhat exaggerated statement. “Tell me, is your mistress indeed resolved upon this course?”
“Oh!” said the damsel, clasping her plump hands together, “she was never more resolved in her life, sir! “I must Fly!” she says to me, clean distracted. “Lucy,” she says, “I am Utterly Undone, for All is Discovered!” So I popped on my bonnet, sir, and slipped out when Cook’s back was turned, “for,” says my poor young mistress, with tears standing in her eyes fit to break anyone’s heart, “if I am whisked off to Lincolnshire, I shall die!” And so she will sir, no question!”
Pen sat down again, hugging her knees. “Nothing could be better!” she declared. “I always liked the notion of your eloping to Gretna Green. In fact, it was my suggestion. Only, Lydia told me that you have no money, Piers. Shall we make Richard pay for the post-chaise?”
“Certainly not!” he replied. “Of course I have enough money for that!”
“I think you ought to have four horses,” she warned him. “Posting charges are very high, you know.”
“Good God, Pen, I’m not penniless! Lydia meant only that I am dependent upon my father. If he refuses to forgive us, I shall be obliged to find some genteel occupation, but I am persuaded that once the deed is done he will very soon come round. Oh, Pen! is she not an angel? I am quite overcome! Is it not affecting that she should trust me so implicitly?”
Pen opened her eyes at this. “Why shouldn’t she?” she asked, surprised.
“Why shouldn’t she? Really, Pen, you don’t understand in the least! Think of her placing her life, honour, all, in my care!”
“I don’t see anything wonderful in that,” replied Pen contemptuously. “I think it would be a great deal more extraordinary if she didn’t trust you.”