There was much that the landlord had meant to say, the chief item of information being that he would not harbour any of the Duke’s party in his house another night, but the air of hauteur which this rather insignificant young man could upon occasion assume made him uneasy, and he decided to leave it unsaid. He told his indignant wife that he hadn’t dealt with the Quality for twenty-five years without knowing when a high-up gentleman had entered his inn. “He can call himself a tutor if he so chooses,” he said, nodding darkly, “but I never saw a tutor that wore a coat like that of his, nor one that looked at you as though you was two-penn’orth of nothing.” He added philosophically: “Besides, he ain’t staying more than one night.”
So the Duke, who had now formed the intention of boarding the London stage on the following day, was allowed to remain at the Sun for one more night. Tom, delighted by this change of plan, promised very handsomely to behave with the utmost propriety, and at once began to make interest with his protector for visits to Astley’s Amphitheatre, the Royal Exchange, and other such places of interest. He was just confiding to him his burning desire to witness a bout of fisticuffs at the Fives Court, and the Wax Effigies at Madame Tussaud’s, when the door opened, and Belinda tripped into the parlour, carrying her bandboxes, and looking as unruffled as she was beautiful. She smiled blindingly upon the Duke, and said: “Oh, you are come back, sir! I am so very glad to see you again! Oh, Tom, I quite thought you had gone to Newgate!”
“Much you would have cared!” growled Tom, by no means gratified by her sudden appearance.
“Oh, no, but I am so pleased Mr. Rufford is here! It is beyond anything great! How do you do, sir?”
He had risen from his chair, staring at her. “Belinda!” he exclaimed.
She untied the strings of her bonnet and cast it on to a chair. “We have been in such a pickle!” she informed him. “Only fancy! Tom was arrested for a highwayman, sir!”
“Belinda, what became of you?” demanded the Duke.
“Oh, I was never so taken-in!” she informed him mournfully. “For when you went away, sir, and Tom was put in prison, I didn’t know what I should do. And I must tell you that they were all in an uproar here, so that it was excessively uncomfortable. And the landlord was so uncivil to me this morning that there was no bearing it! So I went out after breakfast, to look at the shops—they are the shabbiest in the world, I am sure! I saw a quiz of a hat, and was in whoops! And just as I was looking into a window where there were all manner of trinkets, but none of them in the least pretty, a very kind gentleman came up to me, and made me a bow.”
“Mr. Clitheroe?” interpolated the Duke.
She laughed. “Good gracious, no, sir! I don’t know what his name was, but he was quite a young gentleman, and modish, too, and handsome! And he asked me if I would like to have a ring to put on my finger.”