The black curls were nodded vigorously. “I thought it would be so romantic,” sighed Letty. She brightened. “And so it was, when you hit him,” she added, turning to Peter. “It was positively marvellous!”
“Did you elope with him for the romance of it?” asked Mr Merriot, amused.
“That, and because of my papa,” said Letty. “And because of being bored. Oh, have you never known, ma’am, what it is to be cooped up, and kept so close that you are ready to die of boredom?”
“In truth, I’ve led something of a rover’s life,” said Miss Merriot. “But continue, child.”
“I am an heiress,” announced Letty in tones the most lugubrious.
“My felicitations, ma’am,” bowed Mr Merriot.
“Felicitations! I wish I were a pauper, sir! If a man comes to the house my papa must needs imagine he is after my money. He said that of Gregory Markham. And indeed I think he was right,” she said reflectively. “Ma’am, I think fathers are — are the veriest plague.”
“We have suffered, child,” said Miss Merriot.
“Then, ma’am, you will feel for me. My papa puts a hateful disagreeable woman to be my duenna, and I am so guarded and sheltered that there is nothing amusing ever happens to me, in spite of having been brought to town. Add to all that, ma’am, Sir Anthony Fanshawe, and you will see why I had come to the pitch of doing anything only to get away!”
“I feel we are to deplore Sir Anthony, Kate,” said Mr Merriot.