“A ministering angel! So I knew! Try for another poet!”
“I must request you, sir,” said Miss Wraxton icily, “to leave this room immediately — and to take that horrid little dog of Miss Stanton-Lacy’s with you! I can only be thankful that my eyes have been opened to your true character before it was too late! You will oblige me by sending an announcement to the Gazette that our engagement is at an end!”
“It shall be done at once,” said Mr. Rivenhall, bowing. “Pray accept my profound regrets and my earnest wishes for your future happiness, ma’am!”
“Thank you! If I cannot felicitate you upon the contract you are no doubt about to enter into, at least I can pray that you may not be too sadly disappointed in the character of the lady you mean to marry!” said Miss Wraxton, a spot of color burning in either cheek.
“No, I don’t think I shall be disappointed,” said Mr. Rivenhall, with a sudden and rueful grin, “Shocked, maddened, and stunned perhaps, but not disappointed! Come, Tina!”
Descending again to the hall, he found Sophy seated on the floor beside the ducklings’ box, preventing their attempts to escape. Without looking up, she said, “Sir Vincent has found several bottles of excellent Burgundy in the cellar, and Sancia says we shall not be obliged to eat the pig’s cheek after all.”
“Talgarth?” exclaimed Mr. Rivenhall, bristling with hostility. “What the devil brings him here?”
“He came with Sancia. It is the most shocking thing, Charles, and how I am to face Sir Horace I don’t know! He has married Sancia! I cannot think what is to be done!”
“Nothing at all. Your father will be delighted! I forgot to inform you, my dear Cousin, that he arrived in town sometime before I left and is even now in Berkeley Square, awaiting your return. He appeared to feel no small degree of annoyance at learning of your efforts to save the Marquesa from Talgarth.”
“Sir Horace in London?” Sophy exclaimed, her face lighting up. “Oh, Charles, and I not there to welcome him! Why did you not tell me at once?”