“Oh, it was so sad!” she exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears. “He said we should go into the shop, and he offered his arm, and I am sure I had not so much as noticed Mr. Clitheroe, for why should I?”
“Wait a minute!” begged the Duke. “What has Mr. Clitheroe to do with all this? When did you meet him?”
“Why, just then, sir! He was standing on the other side of the road, though I did not notice him, for he is quite old, yon know, and not at all handsome. He came smash up to us, and began to abuse the kind gentleman, and he said I should not go with him. But I would have gone with him, only that he went away, as red as fire! I thought it was so poor-spirited of him! And then Mr. Clitheroe asked me where I lived, and how old was I, and all manner of things.”
“Well, I call that a great piece of impudence!” declared Tom. “You should have sent him to the deuce, only I dare swear you did not!”
“Oh, no, how could I? I told him that I did not live anywhere, but that I was staying with you, sir.”
She smiled enchantingly at the Duke as she spoke, but although he found it impossible to be angry with anyone so lovely or so ingenuous, he was easily able to refrain from returning the smile. He said, in a tone of resignation: “Did you tell him that I was a very kind gentleman, Belinda?”
She nodded, and her curls danced. “Of course I did!” she assured him. “And he said that he would like to meet you.”
The Duke shuddered. “I may readily believe it! I trust he may never have his wish granted!”
“Oh, no! he is a dead bore!” agreed Belinda. “Besides, I told him that you had gone away and left me, so he knew he could not meet you.”
The Duke sank his head in his hands. “Belinda, Belinda, if I do not speedily contrive to hand you into safe keeping I foresee that there will be scarce a town in England where I shall dare to show my face again! So you told him I had deserted you! And what then?”