It wasn't long before I saw those two bath-chairs alongside of each
other, and covered from general observation by masses of blooming
shrubbery. As I had been the cause of bringing them together I thought
I had a right to look at them a little while, as that would be the only
reward I'd be likely to get, and so I did it. It was as I thought;
things was coming to a climax; the bath-chair men standing with much
consideration with their backs to their vehicles, and, united for the
time being by their clasped hands, the lovers grew tender to a degree
which I would have fain checked, had I been nearer, for fear of notice
by passers-by.
But now my blood froze within my veins. I would never have believed
that a man in a high hat and livery a size too small for him could run,
but Snortfrizzle's man did, and at a pace which ought to have been
prohibited by law. I saw him coming from an unsuspected quarter, and
swoop around that clump of flowers and foliage. Regardless of
consequences I approached nearer. There was loud voices; there was
exclamations; there was a rattling of wheels; there was the sundering
of tender ties!
In a moment Pomeroy, who had backed off but a little way, began to
speak, but his voice was drowned in the thunder of Snortfrizzle's
denunciations. Angelica wept, and her head fell upon her lovely bosom,
and I am sure I heard her implore her man to remove her from the scene.
Pomeroy remained, his face firm, his eyes undaunted, but Snortfrizzle
shook his fist in unison with his nose, and, hurling an anathema at
him, followed his daughter, probably to incarcerate her in her
apartments.
All was over, and I returned to Jone with a heavy heart and faltering
step. I could not but feel that I had brought about the sad end of this
tender chapter in the lives of Pomeroy and Angelica. If I had let them
alone they would not have met and they would not have been discovered
together. I didn't tell Jone what had happened, because he does not
always sympathize with me in my interest in others, and for hours my
heart was heavy.
It was about a half an hour before dinner that day when I thought that
a little walk might raise my spirits, and I wandered into the gardens,
for which we each have a weekly ticket, and there, to my amazement, not
far from the gate I saw Angelica in tears and her bath-chair. Her man
was not with her, and she was alone. When she saw me she looked at me
for a minute, and then she beckoned to me to come to her. I flew. There
were but few people in the gardens, and we was alone.
"Madam," said she, "I think you must be very kind. I believe you knew
that gentleman was not my brother. He is not."
"My dear miss," said I - I was almost on the point of calling her
Angelica - "I knew that. I know that he is something nearer and dearer
than even a brother."
She blushed. "Yes," said she, "you are right, and we are in great
trouble."
"Oh, what is it? Tell me quick. What can I do to help you?"
"My father is very angry," said she, "and has forbidden me ever to see
him again, and he is going to take me home to-morrow. But we have
agreed to fly together to-day. It is our only chance, but he is not
here. Oh, dear! I do not know what I shall do."
"Where are you going to fly to?" said I.
"We want to take the Edinburgh train this evening if there is one," she
said, "and we get off at Carlisle, and from there it is only a little
way to Gretna Green."
"Gretna Green!" I cried. "Oh, I will help you! I will help you! Why
isn't the gentleman here, and where has he gone?"
"He has gone to see about the trains," she said, almost crying, "and I
don't see what keeps him. I could not get away until father went into
his room to dress for dinner, and as soon as he is ready he will call
for me. Where can he be? I have sent my man to look for him."
"Oh, I'll go look for him! You wait here," I cried, forgetting that
she would have to, and away I went.
As I was hurrying out of the gates of the gardens I looked in the
direction of the railroad station, and there I saw Pomeroy pulled by
one bath-chair man and the other one talking to him. In twenty bounds I
reached him. "Go back for your young lady," I cried to Robertson,
Angelica's man, "and bring her here on the run. She sent me for you."
Away went Robertson, and then I said to the astonished Pomeroy, "Sir,
there is no time for explanations. Your lady-love will be with you in a
minute. My husband and I are going to Edinburgh to-morrow, and I have
looked up all the trains. There is one which leaves here at twenty
minutes past six. If she comes soon you will have time to catch it.
Have you your baggage ready?"
He looked at me as if he wondered who on earth I was, but I am sure he
saw my soul in my face and trusted me.
"Yes," he said, "she has a little bag in her bath-chair, and mine is
here."
"Here she comes," said I, "and you must fly to the station."
In a moment Angelica was with us, her face beaming with delight.
