Nell said nothing in reply to this. The lamplighter was coming down the street, with his ladder carried between him and the boy who followed at his heels. Nell, who was tired of standing outside Mr. Hethersett’s house, pointed this circumstance out to him, saying: “Won’t he think it excessively odd that we should be standing here?”

“Yes, but we ain’t going to stand here,” replied Mr. Hethersett. “It don’t look to me as though Allandale’s at home, but we may as well enquire for him.”

“Do you mean to say that he lives next door to you?” demanded Nell.

“Yes. Well, no reason why he shouldn’t!” said Mr. Hethersett, surprised at the indignant note in her voice. “What I mean is, he don’t trouble me: hardly ever see him!”

“And you have kept me standing outside all this time! It is a great deal too bad of you!” said Nell, treading up the steps to the door, and grasping the heavy brass knocker.

“I was trying to think what I should do with you while I did the trick here. Trouble is there ain’t anywhere for you to go, but you oughtn’t to be asking for Allandale, you know! Leave it to me, cousin!”

She was quite ready to do this, but when the door was opened, and Mr. Hethersett asked the proprietor of the establishment if Mr. Allandale was at home, and was told that he was not, he seemed so much inclined to withdraw without pursuing his enquiries any farther that she felt obliged to intervene. Disregarding a horrified murmur of protest from Mr. Hethersett she boldly asked if Mr. Allandale had gone out alone, or accompanied by a lady.

“Would it be Mr. Allandale’s sister you was referring to, ma’am?” asked the man cautiously.

“Yes,” said Nell, with great promptness.

“Ah!” said the proprietor, stroking his chin in a ruminative way. “That’s what he said, I don’t deny, but it wasn’t what she said, which puts me in a fix, in a manner of speaking, because if it was his sister you was wishful to see I couldn’t say it was her as was here today, not to take my oath on it, I couldn’t. The young party as came here asking for Mr. Allandale told Mrs. Shotwick, which is my good lady, as how she was engaged to be married to him. Which is different.”

“Well, that is the lady I wish to find,” said Nell.

“Ah!” said Mr. Shotwick, still caressing his chin. “I’ve no objection, but the question is, can you, ma’am? Because she ain’t here. Nor hasn’t been, this three hours and more. Which I’m just as glad she hasn’t, on account of all the bobbery there was.”

“Oh, dear!” Nell said, her heart sinking. “What—what sort of bobbery?”

“No, dash it, cousin—!” expostulated Mr. Hethersett, by this time in a state of acute discomfort.

At this point Mr. Shotwick was struck by the happy idea of inviting them to step inside so that they might discuss the delicate matter with the mistress of the establishment. Nell readily agreed to this, Mr. Hethersett not so readily, and they were ushered into Mr. Allandale’s parlour, on the right of the front door, and left there while Mr. Shotwick went off to summon his wife on to the scene.

“Oh, Felix, what can have happened?” Nell said. “Gone for more than three hours! When the man said they were not here I thought at first that perhaps Mr. Allandale had taken Letty home, and I should find her there when I return. But three hours! Where can she be, if they have not eloped together?”

“I don’t know where she can be,” said Mr. Hethersett. “I know where we are, however, and it ain’t where I want to be. I’m dashed sure this fellow knows who I am, and the next thing we shall find is that he’s twigged who you are. It’ll be all over town before the cat’s had time to lick her ear.”

“Well, if you don’t like to be seen in my company, you may go away!” said Nell, with spirit.

“I don’t,” said Mr. Hethersett frankly. “Particularly in this rig, when you ain’t dressed for the evening. Not at all the thing: looks dashed peculiar! We shall have all the quizzes wondering what the deuce we were doing. Can’t tell ‘em we were looking all over for Letty!”

Anxious as she was, she could not help laughing at this. She said mischievously: “It is very bad, but your credit is so good that I am persuaded no one would believe for an instant that you had done anything that was not good ton!”

“Yes, but this is no time for funning, my dear Lady Cardross! Besides, there’s no saying what people will believe. The thing is, we’re going the quickest way to work to get it set about that that wretched girl has gone clean beyond the line. What’s more, Cardross will be as mad as fire with the pair of us for making cakes of ourselves, instead of telling him what had happened.”

She felt that this indeed might be true, but before she could reply Mr. Shotwick had come back, with a stout dame in a mob-cap, whom he introduced as his good lady.

From the somewhat involved story that issued from Mrs. Shotwick’s lips it became apparent that the eruption of Letty into her hitherto ordered existence had disarranged her mind quite as much as it had shaken her faith in her favourite lodger. “For, not to deceive you, ma’am, what to think I did not know, nor don’t!”

Her first impulse, on learning from her spouse that a beautiful young lady, with a cloak-bag, had taken possession of Mr. Allandale’s parlour, with the expressed intention of remaining there until he returned to his lodging, had been to eject so bold a hussy immediately; but when she had sailed into the room to accomplish this desirable object she had suffered a check. She beheld Quality, and one did not turn Quality out of one’s house, however respectable one might be. But she had been on the watch for Mr. Allandale, and she had waylaid him on his entering the house, and had given him to understand that Goings-on under her roof she would not allow. It had struck her forcibly that upon hearing of his betrothed’s presence in his parlour he had looked queer—to put it no higher.

“Queer as Dick’s hatband,” corroborated Mr. Shotwick.

“I should think he dashed well would look queer!” said Mr. Hethersett, impatient of this circumstantial history.

“Ah!” said Mr. Shotwick. “‘Specially if he was trying to tip her the double, which was what we suspicioned, sir.”

“I’ll thank you not to use that nasty cant, Shotwick!” said the wife of his bosom sharply. “No such thought crossed my mind, not then it didn’t!”

“Not till the kick-up started,” agreed Mr. Shotwick. “Lor’, how she did take on! I thought we should have the neighbours in on us.” He shook his head mournfully. “You couldn’t help but compassionate her. But what has me fair flummoxed is the way he slumguzzled us! Because a quieter, nicer-behaved gentleman you couldn’t find, not if you was to look from here to Jericho! But he tipped her the rise, no question!”

“That’ll do!” said his wife. She looked significantly at Nell, and said darkly: “Not a word shall pass my lips with a gentleman present, but I ask you, ma’am, what is anyone to think when a sweet, pretty young thing carries on like she was desperate, and begs and implores a gentleman—if such you can call him!—to marry her?”

“Crying five loaves a penny, in course,” said Mr. Shotwick helpfully.

“Yes, never mind that! What I mean is, no such thing!” intervened Mr. Hethersett, devoutly trusting that this expression was unknown to Nell. Not that there was any chance that she hadn’t understood the gist of Mrs. Shotwick’s remarks: she was looking aghast, as well she might! “All I want to know is, did they leave this house together, and did you hear where they were bound for?”

“That I cannot say,” replied Mrs. Shotwick. “Leave it they did, in a post-chaise and pair.”

“A post-chaise!” Nell echoed, in a hollow voice.

“A post-chaise it was, ma’am, as I saw with my own eyes, and which Mr. Allandale stepped out to bespeak his own self,” nodded Mrs. Shotwick. “And this I will say: whatever he’s done, he means to do right by that poor young thing now, for when I asked him what was to be done he answered me straight out there was only one thing he could do. I don’t say he looked like he wanted to, but he was very resolute—oh, very resolute he was! He didn’t say anything more to me, but turned sharp about and came back into this very room, where Miss was laid down on that sofa, looking that wore out as never was. But what he said to her I don’t know, for he shut the door. All I do know is that whatever it was it had her up off of the sofa in a twinkling, and as happy as a grig! Then he went off to hire a chaise, and Miss called to me to help her pack his valise, and not another tear did she shed!”

“No need to worry about her, then,” said Mr. Hethersett, making the best of a bad business. “I’m much obliged to you!” He then requested Mr. Shotwick to step out in search of a hack, and cast an uneasy glance at Nell. She was looking quite stricken, but, to his relief, she did not speak until Mrs. Shotwick had curtseyed herself out of the room. He said curtly: “Going to take you home. Nothing to be done. Too late. Very scabby conduct of Allandale’s, but I’m bound to say I’m dashed sorry for him!”

“Oh, could he not have brought her back to her home?” Nell cried, wringing her hands.

“Not if she was screeching in hysterics,” said Mr. Hethersett, with considerable feeling. “What’s more, I don’t blame him!”

“I blame myself! If I had told Cardross of my suspicion! He might have been able then to have overtaken them, but now—! I was so certain Mr. Allandale would not—I thought I should be able to set the wretched business to rights, but I have only helped to ruin Letty!”