“Oh, yes, he did!” corroborated Belinda, smiling angelically at the Duke, and affording him an entrancing glimpse of even teeth, gleaming like pearls between her parted lips.
Mr. Liversedge spoke in a voice of studied patience.
“Were you not completely taken-in, my dear child? Was it not a crushing blow to you when he declared off and left you forsaken?”
Under the Duke’s bemused stare, the smile left Belinda’s face, and two large tears welled over, and rolled down her cheeks. “Yes, it was,” she said, in a voice that would have wrung pity from Herod. “He said I should have a purple silk dress when we was married.”
Mr. Liversedge interposed rather hastily, patting one dimpled hand. “To be sure, yes, and other things too! And now you have none of them!”
“No,” agreed Belinda dolefully. “But I shall be paid a vast sum of money for being so taken-in, and then I may have a—”
“Yes, my love, yes!” interrupted Mr. Liversedge. “You are upset, and no wonder! I would not have brought you face to face with Mr. Ware, who has so grossly deceived you, but that he doubted the depth of the wound he had dealt yon. I will not compel you to remain another instant in the same room with him, for I know it to be painful to you. Go, my love, and trust your uncle to care for your interests!”
He opened the door for her, and after another of her wide, innocent looks at the Duke, she dropped a curtsy, and withdrew.
Mr. Liversedge shut the door upon her, and turned to find the Duke standing still rooted to the spot, and lost in astonishment. He said: “Ah, Mr. Ware, I perceive that you are confounded!”
“Yes,” said Gilly faintly. That is—Good God, sir, what are you about to keep such a lovely creature in this noisome alehouse?”