“The what?”

“Memory Man — I’ve forgotten his name, but he is all the crack, I promise you! He teaches one how to remember everything, by supposing rooms with compartments — fifty to each room! Someone said he had reached the seventeenth room, but a Mr Frampton, who came up after the lecture to talk to Mrs Usselby, said he would wager he would be in a puzzle if he were asked to say what was in the forty-seventh compartment! I don’t think there’s anything more to tell you — except about the Peace Celebrations. There’s a great deal of what your Aunt Nassington calls tracasserie about the White’s Club ball, because by some means or another the Princess of Wales has contrived to obtain tickets for it, and the Prince Regent declares he won’t go to it if she does. I don’t know how it will be, or what the truth is, and I don’t believe anyone does, for everyone has a different story to tell about it!” She paused, drew a breath, and said, with a slight effort: “The civic banquet is fixed for the 18th. I don’t know if you recall — if you would wish — ”

He came to her rescue, anxious to make amends for his previous ill-humour. “Yes, to be sure I do. You were so kind as to invite Lydia to town to see all the lions go in procession to be fed. I think you said your father could procure a window for us. Has he done so? Lydia will be thrown into transports!”

“Well, she is!” Jenny disclosed, thankful to have cleared this fence, and speaking in a far more relaxed tone. “If only your mama will consent to let her come to us! I had a letter from Lydia yesterday. It seems they are pretty well established in the new house, so that there’s no reason why Lydia can’t be spared for a few weeks — particularly as she says your mama has met an old acquaintance with whom she is so excessively pleased that she talks of inviting her to stay in Camden Place, to bear her company. Apparently, she is living in straitened circumstances, and — and — ”

“Toadeats Mama?” he interpolated.

“Well, that’s what Lydia says,” Jenny admitted. “In fact, she says Mrs Papworth is a Mrs Quarley-Bix — but that I don’t at all believe.”

“Good God, I hope not! So Lydia comes to us?”

“I do hope she may, but she says that Lady Lynton has certain scruples — not liking the notion of Lydia’s travelling without a proper escort, and not being able to spare Miss Poolstock to go with her.”

“I’d give much to read Lydia’s account of this!” he commented.

She laughed, but shook her head. “No, she didn’t say I might show it to you. so I shan’t. And I’m sure it is very natural that Lady Lynton should he anxious. The thing is, couldn’t we send Martha, in our own chaise, to fetch her? Do you think it would answer?”

“What I think is that is nothing more nor less than a piece of fudge!” he replied impatiently. “As for your sending Martha, nonsense! Pray, why should you be expected to spare your dresser?”

“But I’m not expected to,” she argued. “It’s quite my own notion. I perfectly understand your mama’s feelings — for the maid that waits on Lydia is far too young to answer the purpose, you know.”

“I don’t — and nor do I know why a young maid won’t serve as well as an older one for such a simple journey. If Lydia were obliged to spend a night on the road it would be another matter, but it’s no such thing. Send your chaise, if you wish (though that’s nonsensical tool), but certainly not Martha!”

She said submissively: “I won’t, if you forbid me, but I wish you won’t! I’m afraid Lady Lynton won’t let Lydia come to us otherwise, and only think how disappointing! I should like so much to have her with me: indeed, I’ve been making all sorts of schemes!”

He was as much pleased as surprised. “Do you really wish it? You’re sure she won’t be a charge on you?”

“A charge on me! I should think not indeed! It will be the most delightful thing imaginable, to have her company, and to take her to see the sights! Do, pray, let me offer to send Martha!”

“If you really wish to, of course, but I think it by far too good-natured of you, and I don’t care to see you imposed on in such a way.”

“Well, what a thing to say!” she exclaimed. “As though your mama would dream of doing so! I’ll write to her immediately. She saw Martha when we were at Fontley, so she will know that Lydia will be perfectly safe in her care.”

She was mistaken. The Dowager, replying with the utmost graciousness to her letter, could not reconcile it with her conscience to permit her young and inexperienced daughter to face the hazards of travel without male protection. Only a Mother, she added, could enter into her sentiments,, or appreciate how much it cost her to be obliged to deny her dearest child the offered treat.

“Upon my word!” exclaimed Adam, handed this missive to read. “Mama playing off her tricks! Depend upon it, this is nothing more nor less than a determination to keep Lydia dancing attendance on her. It is too bad! Now what’s to be done? Am I to go down to Bath to fetch her? Is that what you wish?”

“Would you do so?” Jenny asked diffidently.

“Yes, I suppose so. What a bore! Very well, I’ll contrive to go somehow or other — though when I’m to find the time I don’t know! I’m to take my seat on Tuesday, and we seem to have a host of engagements besides. Don’t tell Mama I mean to fetch Lydia! No doubt it will be best to take her by surprise.”

In the event the Dowager was taken more by surprise than Adam had foreseen. Mr Chawleigh took a hand in the affair.

Mr Chawleigh, according the plan for Lydia’s entertainment his approval, had been following the progress of events with great interest. He saw nothing but what was praiseworthy in the Dowager’s scruples; and when what seemed to him a very easy way out of the difficulty presented itself he seized upon it, delighted to be given the chance of enacting Providence. Adam came home one afternoon to be confronted by a stricken bride, who raised apprehensive eyes to his face, and faltered: “Adam, I must tell you! I didn’t know — I never meant — I’m afraid you’ll be vexed, but indeed I couldn’t help it!”

He put up his brows enquiringly. “Shall I? Try me!”

“It’s — it’s Papa!” she blurted out. “He has gone to fetch Lydia from Bath!” She saw the look of astonishment in his face, and hurried on: “He sent a note round to me by one of his clerks, just as he was leaving town, so I couldn’t stop him! It seems he has to go to Bristol on business, and he wrote to say you needn’t be in a worry how to find time to fetch Lydia, because he means to return by way of Bath, and will bring her up to town himself. He doesn’t understand — that is, he only wishes to be helpful, Adam!”

She ended on a note of entreaty, dreading his displeasure. There was a moment’s silence, while he struggled with his emotions. They were too strong: he gave a gasp, and burst into laughter.

She had only the dimmest perception of what made him laugh, for she was not quick to perceive the ridiculous, and she was not assailed, as he was, by a vision of Mr Chawleigh’s descent upon the house in Camden Place; but she was too thankful that he was amused rather than vexed to care for the cause of his mirth. She smiled doubtfully at him, and said: “It’s one of his surprises. I told you once how he loves to give one splendid surprises, didn’t I?”

“You did, Jenny, you did! Oh, if only I were there to see it!”

She considered this, and said quite seriously: “Do you think her ladyship won’t let Lydia go with him?”

“No, my love. From what I know of your father I confidently expect to see Lydia within the week!” he replied, in a shaking voice.

Chapter XIV

Three evenings later, just as he was sticking a pin in the folds of his neckcloth, Adam was interrupted by sounds unmistakably betokening his sister’s arrival. A peal on the front-door bell, accompanied by the vigorous use of the knocker, was shortly followed by the scamper of footsteps on the stairs, and Lydia’s voice calling gleefully: “Adam! Jenny!”

He grinned, and went out on to the landing in his shirtsleeves.

“Oh, Adam, isn’t it famous? Here I am!” cried Lydia, casting herself upon his chest. “Mr Chawleigh brought me — and in such style! Oh, Jenny, there you are! I do think your papa is the kindest person in the world! Mr Chawleigh, Mr Chawleigh, come up, pray! They are both here!”

Released from a hug that had irreparably damaged his freshly-tied neckcloth, Adam endorsed this invitation, saying, as he looked over the banisters: “Yes, do come up, sir! — if you have strength enough left after a day spent in this hoyden’s company! How do you do, sir? I am very much obliged to you!”

Mr Chawleigh, ponderously ascending the last flight, grasped Adam’s outstretched hand, and replied, his countenance wreathed in a broad smile: “Ay, I thought you would be! Well, Jenny-lass, I’ve brought her to you, all right and tight, you see, and no fear you’ll fall into the dismals with her about the house! I’ll be off now I’ve seen her safe in your hands.”

“By all means — if you wish to offend us beyond forgiveness!” said Adam. “Or do you imagine that Jenny holds household in such a nip-cheese way as to be put out by the arrival of a mere couple of unexpected guests? You should know her better!”

“I told you so!” interpolated Lydia triumphantly.

“But you’ve company? Nay, I won’t say!” said Mr Chawleigh.

“No, we haven’t, Papa; it’s only that we are going, later, to Lady Castlereagh’s assembly — and we need not, need we, Adam?”

“We need, but not for a few hours yet. Come into my dressing-room, won’t you, sir, while I finish rigging myself out? Fetch up the sherry, Kinver!”