Run to Earth: A Novel

by M. E. Braddon

"You have been admiring the grounds, I see, Sir Oswald," she said, very graciously. "It is not quite usual for a gentleman visitor and a pupil to promenade in the grounds tête-à-tête; but I suppose, in the case of a gentleman of your time of life, we must relax the severity of our rules in some measure."

The baronet bowed stiffly. A man of fifty does not care to be reminded of his time of life at the very moment when he has just been accepted as the husband of a girl of nineteen.

"It may, perhaps, be the last opportunity which I may have of admiring your grounds, Miss Beaumont," he said, presently, "for I think of removing your pupil very shortly."

"Indeed!" cried the governess, reddening with suppressed indignation. "I trust Miss Milford has not found occasion to make any complaint; she has enjoyed especial privileges under this roof—a separate bed-room, silver forks and spoons, roast veal or lamb on Sundays, throughout the summer season—to say nothing of the most unremitting supervision of a positively maternal character, and I should really consider Miss Milford wanting in common gratitude if she had complained."

"You are mistaken, my dear madam; Miss Milford has uttered no word of complaint. On the contrary, I am sure she has been perfectly happy in your establishment; but changes occur every day, and an important change will, I trust, speedily occur in my life, and in that of Miss Milford. When I first proposed bringing her to you, you asked me if she was a relation; I told you he was distantly related to me. I hope soon to be able to say that distant relationship has been transformed into a very near one. I hope soon to call Honoria Milford my wife."

Miss Beaumont's astonishment on hearing this announcement was extreme; but as surprise was one of the emotions peculiar to the common herd, the governess did her best to suppress all signs of that feeling. Sir Oswald told her that, as Miss Milford was an orphan, and without any near relative, he would wish to take her straight from "The Beeches" to the church in which he would make her his wife, and he begged Miss Beaumont to give him her assistance in the arrangement of the wedding.

The mistress of "The Beeches" possessed a really kind heart beneath the ice of her ultra-gentility, and she was pleased with the idea of assisting in the bringing about of a genuine love-match. Besides, the affair, if well managed, would reflect considerable importance upon herself, and she would be able by and bye to talk of "my pupil, Lady Eversleigh;" or, "that sweet girl, Miss Milford, who afterwards married the wealthy baronet, Sir Oswald Eversleigh." Sir Oswald pleaded for an early celebration of the marriage—and Honoria, accustomed to obey him in all things, did not oppose his wish in this crisis of his life. Once more Sir Oswald wrote a cheque for the wardrobe of his protégée, and Miss Beaumont swelled with pomposity as she thought of the grandeur which might be derived from the expenditure of a large sum of money at certain West-end emporiums where she was in the habit of making purchases for her pupils, and where she was already considered a person of some importance.

It was holiday-time at "The Beeches," and almost all the pupils were absent. Miss Beaumont was, therefore, able to devote the ensuing fortnight to the delightful task of shopping. She drove into town almost every day with Honoria, and hours were spent in the choice of silks and satins, velvets and laces, and in long consultations with milliners and dressmakers of Parisian celebrity and boundless extravagance.

"Sir Oswald has intrusted me with the supervision of this most important business, and I will drop down in a fainting-fit from sheer exhaustion before the counter at Howell and James's, sooner than I would fail in my duty to the extent of an iota," Miss Beaumont said, when Honoria begged her to take less trouble about the wedding trousseau.

It was Sir Oswald's wish that the wedding should be strictly private. Whom could he invite to assist at his union with a nameless and friendless bride? Miss Beaumont was the only person whom he could trust, and even her he had deceived; for she believed that Honoria Milford was some fourth or fifth cousin—some poor relative of Sir Oswald's.