Lady Betty Across the Water | Page 7

are not, as a rule, dull. And forty thousand a year in any
form can afford to patronise a daughter of a hundred dukes without a
penny, whereas I'm merely the granddaughter of three. In fact, my dear,
I'm humbly anxious that Sir Gilbert should propose; and as he's been
rather nice, and as he's written almost asking for an invitation to come
down with Stan, from next Saturday to Monday, although he carefully
states he's been invited for the same time, by Princess Paul of Plon,
things look hopeful. The only trouble is--you."

"Me!"
"Yes, you. The one time he ever saw you, was when you had that
frightful cold, and looked hideous, with your poor dear nose twice its
size, and your eyes half theirs. But--well, Betty, you're a beauty, and
I'm not, though I do flatter myself I'm not bad looking. I'm 'penny
plain,' and you're 'tuppence coloured'; and the Mantell man can afford
tuppence for a wife. You are so frightfully, luridly pretty that it's almost
improper, and if he comes down and sees you, he'll probably think you
better worth his money than I am."
"What nonsense! And if he were such an idiot, of course I should refuse
him."
"You would. That's one of mother's difficulties. Even you must see that
would do no good from the family point of view."
"I could keep out of the creature's way."
"You couldn't, without Stan making some blundering remark, or some
contretemps happening; it would be sure to. It's much safer to have you
absolutely out of the way; and it was when we were talking it over this
morning, that Mother hit upon the plan of sending you to the States.
You know how prompt she is, once she's made up her mind? Mother is
really a wonderful woman. Twenty minutes later she sent a telegram to
Mrs. Ess Kay, asking her to come down, and certain, under Providence,
that she would; for an intimate sort of invitation like this, when we're
alone (especially after the Great Disappointment), would be too
flattering to a woman of that type not to be snapped at, no matter if a
dozen engagements had to be trampled in the dust."
"What Great Disappointment are you talking about?"
"Infant in Arms! Why, Stan and Miss Woodburn."
"I--didn't know--nobody told me----"
"Fancy needing to be told! As if that weren't the only reason why

Mother smiled on Mrs. Ess Kay in the beginning. It was because she
thought Miss Woodburn might do for Stanforth, who must marry
money, and is too poor, horribly poor, to be much of a catch with most
English heiresses, who aren't as keen on titles as they used to be, unless
there's some solid foundation for them to stand on, and not wobble.
Everyone says Miss Woodburn's a great heiress, and though she's a few
years older than Stan, she's a lady, a charming creature, and not bad
looking. Mother thought all that out, the day they were introduced to
her at the Northminster's concert, so she invited them here. But Stan
and the Woodburn wouldn't look at each other. It was useless even for
Mother's genius to attempt the impossible, so she resigned herself to the
inevitable, and gave the thing up. She meant to drop the Americans
gently--which she could easily do as they were going home soon--when
this new idea popped up. It's really important for me, dear. I do want
you to see that. It will be so much better all around if you are out of the
way, anyhow until I'm safely engaged, and the wedding-day fixed.
Then, you know, if you haven't meanwhile picked up an American
millionaire on the other side--don't look so horrified!--Mother will be
able to devote herself to you, heart and soul, as she has to me. Next
spring you can be presented----"
"Don't bribe," I said, feeling as if I wanted to cry. "If you want to get
rid of me, I'll go without that. But I should have thought I might be sent
again to Aunt Sophy's."
"Not again till our magnificent cousin's safely married. She wouldn't
have you there. Remember how she sent you home, last time. Poor
Loveland! He too, must think about collecting honest gold (somebody
else's), to brighten up his coronet. We're a poverty-stricken lot, my
child, and it's for me, with your help, to retrieve the fallen fortunes of
this branch of the family."
"That's settled then," said I, as drily as I could with wet tears in the
background. "And now, let's go to bed, please. I'm sleepy."
I wasn't; but my eyes were hot, and there was a lump in my throat. I
was homesick--dreadfully homesick, for something--I don't know what,
but it seemed to be something I've never