“Did he succeed?” asked Alverstoke.

“No, but Merriville did. He threw a glass of water in her face.”

“Quite right!” nodded Frederica.

“Well, I daresay it was,” said Charles dubiously. “The only thing was that, though it did stop the vapours, it made her cry, and that led to a fresh uproar, because Dauntry came to cuffs with Merriville for doing it, and Merriville said he would do what he chose to his own sister, and so they fell into a quarrel. Which was quite a good thing, because I was able to draw the curate aside, and — and smooth him down a trifle.”

“Charles,” said Alverstoke, much moved, “I have never done you justice! It must be the diplomatic service for you!”

Charles blushed, and laughed. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very successful, sir! He was as mad as fire — and no one could blame him! But the main thing was that he said he refused to perform the ceremony, no matter whether there was an impediment or not, because we were a set of infidels, and a lot more to that tune. Then Merriville said he washed his hands of the whole affair, and since I’d played boots with everything I could damned — I mean, he told me I could now be responsible for the rest. And he flung off in a rage. That was a good thing too.”

“A very good thing!” said Frederica. “What happened after that?”

“Well, I managed to persuade the curate to permit us to stay in the vestry until Miss Merriville had recovered. And once I’d got rid of him, and Miss Merriville had stopped crying, I–I talked to them! Showing them how improper it was, and so on. Then Dauntry said that he hadn’t been quite easy about it from the start, and after a while it came out that he thought you, as well as Miss Merriville, would do what you could do to separate him from Miss Charis, sir.”

“Mea culpa! I gave him a hint not to be so particular in his attentions!”

“Yes, he told me about that, but I think he had the notion fixed in his head long before then. Well — I ventured to tell him that I was pretty sure you wouldn’t care a rush if he married Miss Merriville, but you’d cut up stiff if he went about it in a havey-cavey way.”

“How well you understand me, my dear boy! Did he fear I should instantly reduce him to penury?”

“Oh, no! He said he was going to sell out, and try his hand at farming. In the Shires,” added Mr Trevor demurely.

“Good God! Then, if he was ready to face having his allowance stopped, what was he afraid of? What the devil did he think I could do to stop his marriage?”

“He appeared to think,” said Mr Trevor, his countenance wooden, “that you would contrive to get him sent abroad on a diplomatic mission.”

There was a moment’s stunned silence, before both the ladies fell into gusts of merriment.

“But I told him,” said Mr Trevor, “that I rather fancied it would be beyond your power.”

“You might well!” said Alverstoke, who had sunk his brow on his hand.

“I also told him — and I hope you won’t object, sir — that what he ought to do was to tell you the whole, and — and trust to you to make all right with Mrs Dauntry.”

“And with me?” asked Frederica.

“Well, yes!” he confessed. “I did say that! What I meant to do — because Miss Merriville was declaring that she couldn’t return here, ma’am, and I couldn’t think where else to take her — was to have brought them both to you, sir, at Alverstoke House.”

“Thank you, Charles! What saved me from this ugly fate?”

For the first time in his recital, Mr Trevor’s voice became a little unsteady. “Dauntry recollected that he had left a letter for his mother. With the butler — to be given her at noon. It occurred to him that she might be prostrated by it, and that it was his duty to reassure her. So — so we called up a hack, and persuaded Miss Merriville to get into it, and drove off to Green Street.”

“Left a letter for his mother?” repeated Alverstoke. “For God’s sake, why couldn’t he have posted a letter to her later? He doesn’t live with her!”

“He thought,” said Charles carefully, “that he had best write to her at once, in case he afterwards forgot to do so.”

This was too much, even for himself. He succumbed to his bottled-up amusement, and went into whoops.

Frederica, the first of the assembled company to stop laughing, said, wiping her streaming eyes: “And you went with them! I n-never dreamed of s-such heroism, Mr Trevor!”

“I must say I didn’t relish it much, but I thought it was the least I could do, after bringing the wedding to nothing. Dauntry fought shy of going in to his mother without anyone to support him, and Miss Merriville was so frightened, that I thought it very likely the pair of them would turn cat in pan if I didn’t keep them to the sticking point. So I went with them.”

“To find Mrs Dauntry in convulsions?” asked Eliza.

“No, that was later,” he replied seriously. “When we all walked into the drawing-room, she was sitting in a chair with Dauntry’s letter in her lap, and looking as though she’d been knocked acock. And no sooner did she set eyes on Dauntry than she rang such a peal over him — well, it nearly made me scour off! It turned him as sulky as a bear, and as for Miss Merriville, I thought she would fall down in a faint. I kept on telling her they weren’t married, but she wouldn’t pay the smallest heed, so that at last I was obliged to go smash up to her, and give her a shake, in the most shockingly brassy way! However, it surprised her so much that she stopped pouring reproaches over Dauntry, and I was able to tell her that he hadn’t got married after all. Then she tried to throw herself on to his chest, saying, in — in a most embarrassing way: ‘Oh, my beloved son, you remembered your mother, and you repented!’ Naturally that set up his hackles more than ever, and he thrust her off, and said: ‘No, I didn’t!’ and that it was all my doing, and that I was a curst addle-plot. So she threw herself on my chest,” said Charles blenching at the memory.

“Oh, poor Mr Trevor!” cried Frederica. “Whatever did you do?”

“I couldn’t do anything. That was the worst of it! She had her arms round my neck, calling me her dear, dear boy, and her saviour, and kissing my cheek!”

“But what more could you desire? This is excellent, Charles!” said Alverstoke.

“Well,I didn’t think it excellent, sir, and nor did Dauntry! Up till then he hadn’t done much more than look black, but hearing her thank me for having preserved him from what she called a fatal marriage fairly wound him up, and the next thing was that he was giving her a trimming, and at the top of his voice too! He was in such a passion he didn’t care what he said to her. I must own, I was as astonished as she was, for he’s such an amiable fellow that I hadn’t thought he could be stirred up. Lord, he even shouted at her, when she put her hand on her heart, and gasped that she felt a spasm coming on, that she could have as many spasms as she pleased, and if she dared to utter one more word against Miss Merriville he’d never speak to her again as long as he lived! But at that Miss Merriville suddenly cried out: ‘Oh, no, no, no!’ and ran to Mrs Dauntry, and put her arms round her, begging her not to heed Dauntry, because he didn’t mean it, and neither of them would do anything she didn’t like, and heaven knows what more besides! She coaxed her to lie down on the sofa, and held her vinaigrette under her nose, and sent Dauntry off to fetch the hartshorn directly. And when he said he didn’t know where to find it I’m dashed if she didn’t rip up at him, saying how dared he be so brutal to his mother, and if he didn’t know where to find the hartshorn, he could ask Mrs Dauntry’s woman, couldn’t he? So he went off and got some brandy, which answered just as well. Only, when he tried to tell Mrs Dauntry it was no use for her to make herself sick, she shuddered, and implored Miss Merriville not to leave her. So then they both began to cry, and the next thing was that Mrs Dauntry was calling Miss Merriville her dear child, and the pair of them had got into a league against Dauntry. He’d come out of the mops by then, and if I hadn’t trodden on his foot he would have begged his mother’s pardon, and begun to pet and coax her.”

Alverstoke’s eyes gleamed. “Very subtle, Charles!”

“I don’t know that, sir, but I could see that the longer he stayed on his high ropes the more Mrs Dauntry would cling to Miss Merriville, because she was the only one of us who was sympathizing with her. The only thing I was afraid of was that Miss Plumley would come in, but it turned out that she’d been taken ill last night, with the influenza. That was a stroke of rare good fortune, because Mrs Dauntry’s maid was nursing her, and what with that, and the girls having been sent off with the governess to some aunt or other, to escape the infection, Mrs Dauntry was obliged to fend for herself, which don’t suit her. She said — you know her way, sir! — ”

“Too well!”

Charles grinned. “Yes — well, she said heaven knew she didn’t grudge her woman to Miss Plumley, only she was still so unwell herself that the least exertion exhausted her. Miss Merriville agreed with that — I mean, she really did! she wasn’t shamming it!”

“Oh, no!” said Frederica. “She is very tenderhearted, you know, and is sorry for people on the smallest provocation. Or even on none at all.”

“It — it does her great credit!”

“It doesn’t, but let that pass!” said Alverstoke. “I take it Charis is now performing the combined duties of companion, nurse, and abigail? Has Mrs Dauntry given her consent to the fatal marriage?”

“No, she hasn’t done that yet, but she told Miss Merriville that she was a dear, sweet child, so I shouldn’t think it would be long before she does. Anyway, Miss Merriville is to remain with her until tomorrow. So I told Dauntry, in his ear, that if he didn’t want to make a mess of everything he’d play least in sight for a while, and dragged him off with me. And — and that’s all!”