Thereby Hangs a Tale Part 72

"Naughty Pepine, come here directly!"

Then through the trees he caught a glimpse of a lavender dress gracefully draping an iron seat.

It was not the dog that made Frank Pratt flee with rapid strides, till a thought made him check his steps.

"Suppose some one else was walking there!"

In the hope that it might be possible, Pratt went slowly on, taking advantage of every break in the trees to peer anxiously through the railings, seeing, however, nothing but nursemaids in charge of naughty children, whom it was necessary to correct by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g their arms at the sockets--a beneficial practice, no doubt, but whose good was not apparent at the time. There was a perambulator being propelled by a nursemaid reading the _Family Herald_, while the two children it contained were fast asleep--one hanging forward, sustained by a strap, and looking like a fat Punch in a state of congestion; the other leaning over the side, and having a red place ground in its ear by the perambulator wheel. Farther on there were more children, playing alone at throwing dirt, their protectress being engaged in a flirtation with a butcher in blue with a round, bullet head, whose well-oiled hair shone in the afternoon sun.

Pratt walked on, getting hopeless as he progressed, for soon he would come within range of Pepine, and perhaps be discovered when--What was that?

A sharp, short little cough that could be no other than Fin's; and there, through the trees, were she and her sister, Tiny resting on Fin's arm, and walking very slowly.

There was an opening in the shrubs farther on; and hurrying to this, though it was dangerously near Pepine and Aunt Matty, Pratt waited the coming of the sisters.

Alas, for human hopes!--they had turned back, and he had to hurry after them for some distance before he could find an opening sufficiently clear to display his figure, when he hazarded a cough; and on Fin looking sharply round, he followed it up with a "How d'ye do, Miss Rea?"

"It's Mr Pratt!" he heard Fin whisper. And then came back a quiet response.

"Do you always walk like this--within prison bars?" said Pratt, walking on parallel with them.

"It can't be prison when one holds the keys, Mr Pratt," said Fin, sharply.

"You'll let me shake hands?" he said, after a pause. "I never see you now."

"How can you?" said Fin, sharply, "when you never call."

"What was the use of my calling, when your servant could only speak me one speech?" said Pratt.

"And pray, what was that?" said Fin, with her nose in the air. "Not at home."

Fin gave her foot a little stamp on the gravel, and whispered to her sister. By this time they had reached the gate, just as a nursemaid unlocked it to pa.s.s through with her charge.

"Thanks," said Pratt, quietly. And, walking in, he was the next moment with Fin and her sister; the former looking defiant, and half drawing back her hand, the latter so pale and ill that, forgetting Fin, Pratt took both her hands affectionately, as, with a husky voice, he exclaimed--

"My dear Miss Rea, I didn't know you had been so ill."

Tiny answered with a gentle smile; and Fin, who had been setting up all the thorns about her, ready to tear and lacerate this intruder, now looked quite humid of eye, and shook hands warmly.

"I--I didn't know you'd be so glad to see me," said Pratt, flushing with pleasure.

"I didn't say I was," said Fin, archly.

"You looked so," it was on Pratt's lips to say; but he checked it, and they strolled on--away from Aunt Matty, after Fin had mischievously proposed that Pratt should go and see her--till Tiny complained of fatigue and sat down.

Here was an opportunity not to be lost; and, after a little solicitation, Fin consented to leave her sister and walk on, conditionally that they kept in sight.

Pratt, on the strength of his prosperity, had determined to sound his little companion; but before they had gone a dozen yards, he found that his own affairs were to be of no account.

"What's become of that wretch of a friend of yours?" said Fin, sharply.

"Do you mean Sir Felix Landells?" said Pratt, borrowing a shaft from her own quiver.

"No, I don't," said Fin, flushing scarlet, "nor any such silly donkey, I mean--"

Pratt would have gone down on his knees in the gravel, only there was a nursemaid close by, and a big, fat child was sucking its thumb, and staring at them; but he burst out, in a husky voice--

"Oh, Miss Rea--Finetta--pray, pray say that again."

"Indeed, I shall do no such thing," said Fin, sharply, and becoming more red--"why should I?"

"Because it makes me so happy," said Pratt. "I thought it was to be he."

"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Fin. "A nice feeling of respect you must have for me, to couple me with that scented dandy."

"Finetta, don't be hard upon me," gasped Pratt--"I can't talk now. If I had you in a witness-box I could go ahead, but I feel now as if I were going to lose my case."

"What stuff are you talking?" said Fin, whose breast was panting.

"I was trying to tell you that I loved you with my whole heart," said Pratt, earnestly; "even as I learned to love you down in Cornwall, when I was such a poor, miserable beggar that I wouldn't have told you for the world."

"And now you're in Jumbles _versus_ Hankey, and the great cotton case."

"Why, how did you know?" cried Pratt.

"I always read the law reports in the _Times_" said Fin, demurely.

Pratt choked; he felt blind; then the railings seemed to be dancing with the trees, and the little children to be transformed into cherubs, attended by angels, with triumphant perambulating cars. He felt as if he wanted to do something frantic; and it was a minute before he came to himself, and could see that the tears were running down Fin's cheeks.

"Thank you," he said at last. "Finetta--Fin--may I call you Fin?-- dearest Fin, say I may."

"No, no, no," jerked out Fin, hysterically--"you mustn't do anything of the kind. Pa wouldn't approve, and Aunt Matty hates you, and--and--and I'm nearly sure I do."

"Go on hating me like this, then," cried Pratt, rapturously. "Oh, darling, you've made me so happy!"

"I haven't," protested Fin, "and I can't, and I won't. How can I, when poor darling Tiny has been so treated by that odious wretch?"

"What--Vanleigh?"

"No, you know what I mean; but he's an odious wretch, too. It's abominable. Mr Trevor ought to be hung."

"Why?" said Pratt.

"Why?" echoed Fin. "Hasn't he jilted my poor darling, and behaved cruelly to her, after winning her heart, just as all men do?"

"No," said Pratt, stoutly.

"What!" cried Fin, "didn't I see him out with her himself, and hasn't somebody been at our house dropping hints about it--unwillingly, of course--and made pa delighted, and Aunt Matty malicious? while poor mamma has done nothing but cry, because she liked and believed in your nice friend. As to poor Tiny, she was dangerously ill for a time."