“But to return, mon ami!” My lady clasped her hands in her lap. “Society adopts you, then, in spite of all?”
“Again you observe the subtlety of my methods! Consider, my Thérèse! Consider how I become one of the select circle! It is fitting. I am at last in my proper milieu.” He looked kindly at his daughter. “I shall carry you with me, my child. Have no fear. You shall be established — you and Robin.” He became aware of Robin’s absence. “But where is my son? Where is the beautiful Miss Merriot?” he demanded.
“The rogue’s gone off to sit with his lady love,” answered Prudence.
He looked incredulous. “You tell me he entrusts his secret to a woman? No, no, do not say so, my daughter! Robin is my son, and he has sense — a little.”
“I don’t say it, sir. The lady knows naught. Robin — heigh-ho, he must needs fall for a pair of brown eyes!”
She told him of the encounter with Miss Letty and Mr Markham on the road to Gretna Green.
He was pleased to approve. “I embrace you, my child. The hilt to the chin! Myself or Robin taught you that trick. You do me credit, enfin! I permit myself to take pride in you. Who is the lady? Eh, but the little Robin inherits something of my disposition!”
“It’s a Miss Grayson, sir, and an heiress as I believe. A pretty brown-eyed chit.”
The old gentleman’s eyes became intent. “Grayson?” he repeated. “Grayson, my daughter?”
“Do you know the name, sir?”