“He said he would be,” agreed Belinda, “but he never gave me any of the things he promised me, and besides, I don’t like it at that horrid little inn, so perhaps I won’t have him for a guardian any more. I thought I might have you for one instead,” she added confidingly.
“No,” said the Duke firmly, “that is quite impossible!”
Belinda sighed, but appeared to resign herself to her disappointment. She took another bite out of her apple, and fixed her eyes expectantly on the Duke’s face.
“Does Liversedge know you have come to me?” he demanded. She shook her head. “But how could you contrive to escape unseen? and how did you reach Baldock? You cannot have walked all the way, surely?”
“Oh, no! I only walked to the pike-road, and a kind gentleman took me up in his carriage,” Belinda explained. “And he said he would be very glad to take me to his house, only that perhaps his wife would not like it. I daresay she is a disagreeable lady, like that one downstairs. Ladies are nearly always so, are they not? I like gentlemen better.”
The Duke did not find this difficult to believe. He refrained from comment, however, merely repeating: “How did you contrive to escape from that place?”
“Well, Uncle Swithin’s head hurt him, so he went to lie down upon his bed, and everyone else was gone into the tap-room. Besides, Mr. Mimms would not care if he saw me go, because he doesn’t hold with females.”
“I see. But what made you run away? Did Liversedge blame you for what happened at the inn this afternoon? Was he perhaps angry with you?”
“Oh, yes! He said he wished he had not saddled himself with me, for I am too stupid to be of the least use to him, and he says he will send me back to Mrs. Pilling!” replied Belinda, large tears gathering in her eyes.
“Pray do not cry!” begged the Duke. “Who is Mrs. Pilling?”