Mr. Godalming has got the idea that old Vincy is fast approaching dun territory.” At my mystified look, he further explained, “Purse-pinched, Miss Crawley, on the rocks, dished, at low ebb. In short, Mr. Godalming believes that Mr. Vincy hasn’t a sixpence to scratch himself with. Naturally, being the sort of man he is, he promptly made himself scarce.”
“Oh, but—no one would believe that! Look at their coach, their servants, their garb! Why Mrs. Vincy’s dresses alone—!”
Mr. Fredericks looked amused. “My dear Miss Crawley! I had no idea you knew so little of the world. Why, I could name fine gentlemen, and ladies, too, not twenty miles from here who haven’t a feather to fly with, but who nevertheless put on a brave show. There are all sorts of ways to look as though you are flush with funds when in fact you’ve scarcely enough in your pockets to jingle as you walk. It wouldn’t do, you see, for a man like Vincy to look poor. His lady, his daughter, his servants and equipage must be superbly got up, with everything bright and shining about them, or, you see, investors will lose confidence in him.”
“Then . . . then you mean . . . it is true?” I asked, aghast.
“Oh, Lord no. Vincy is a sly dog. He’s had some close calls over the years, of course, but you wouldn’t see him letting Mrs. Vincy go out in public in a cheap frock when times were thin. Not that she’d stand for it for one moment, anyway, even though she brought nothing to the marriage but her name and lineage.”
“I see,” I said, much relieved.
“Godalming was worried he’d compromised himself, given the amount of attention he’d paid to Miss Vincy. Which, if she thought him anything other than a nuisance, would be quite true. And of course the old lady thinks she’s got him roped and tied.”
I opened my mouth to berate him for referring to a gentlewoman in Mrs. Vincy’s position as “the old lady,” but he forestalled me.
“Oh, you know perfectly well that you don’t like her either. In any case, I advised him to invent urgent business calling him to York. Then he can lay low until they leave.”
“Until they leave! But this is high summer. Mr. Godalming has an estate which must be attended to. I thought— I had hoped that they would stay many months longer.”
He shook his head. “Not now. Since Mrs. Vincy has lost all hopes of catching the Baron,” here he regarded me with what I can only describe as a baleful gaze, “and the only other local marital possibilities for her daughter are now exhausted,” here he looked at me again, “they will leave soon. She will wait a few weeks, both for decorum’s sake, and to make sure Godalming will not return, but leave she will, and soon.”
“I see,” I said, and left him.
So immense was my sense of guilt that I brought Miss Vincy an entire glass of wine unadulterated by water, some of the last of the great wine cellar. I longed to beg her pardon, but I could not bear to admit how greatly I had been at fault.
I eased the door open gently, fearing she might be asleep, and found her bent, unconscious of my intrusion, over a letter. At first she read the letter and then she kissed the locket with the twist of hair which depended from her neck.
“Oh, my dearest, my darling,” she murmured.
I stamped my feet a few times to ensure she knew of my presence.
“Oh, Miss Crawley! I did not hear—is Mr. Godal-ming gone?” She slipped the letter back into her pocket and the locket back into the neckline of her dress.
“He is,” I said, handing her the goblet. “I do not believe he will cause you any further trouble. Mr. Fredericks has spoken to him.” I thought it best not to mention exactly how he had dissuaded Mr. Godalming from annoying her further.
“Bless him! Mr. Fredericks is such a good friend, much better than I deserve.”
“Nonsense,” I said briskly, thinking of Mr. Fredericks’s failure to propose. “You deserve far better, but we must do our best with the materials at hand.”
“Miss Crawley,” she said, laughing a little, “you are most unkind to Mr. Fredericks! He admires you greatly, you know.”
“Pooh! Nothing of the kind! He is as rude as possible to me, and never fails to point out my faults, which, according to him, are legion.”
“But you do the same