LORD OF MANY SECRETS

NINETEEN

Patrick's days during that first week were quite at full as his sister's. His friend, Mr Fritzwa, took him thoroughly in hand. When he was not being fitted for boots at Footies, or hats at Lock's, he was choosing fobs in Wash Street, or riding off to Long Lands to look at a Tilbury, or knowingly inspecting carriage horses at Rancharoll's.

The house in Spear Street, somewhat to Miss Tellaro's annoyance, proved to be admirable in every respect, the saloons handsome, and the furnishings just what she liked. She was installed there within three days of seeing Mr Kingsley, and a number of her new gowns having been delivered in neat band boxes, her hair having been fashionably cut, and her maid taught to dress it in several approved classical styles. Mrs Andromeda declared her to be ready to receive morning callers.

The first of these were her uncle, the Admiral, and his son, Mr Bartholomew Tellero. They came at an awkward moment. Patrick, who had spent the great part of the morning in a brocade dressing gown, while the barber and a breeches maker waited on him, being at the moment engaged in trying to arrange his starched neck clothe.

His sister, who had walked unceremoniously into his room to demand his escort to Robin's Lending Library, was an interested and rather scornful spectator. "What nonsense it is, Parte!" she exclaimed, as with an exasperated oath he threw away his fourth crushed and mangled cravat. "This is the fourth you have spoiled! If only you would have them made more narrow!"

Patrick, his face and head quite obscured by his turned up shirt collar, said testily, "women never understand these things. Fritz says it must be a foot high. As for four spoiled, pooh, that's nothing! Fritz says Alexandra has sometimes ruined as many as a dozen. Now they it again, Jude! Fold my collar down first, you fool!"

Someone knocked on the door. Patrick, with a neck clothe a foot wide round his neck, and his chin to the ceiling, shouted, "come in!" and in doing so produced a crease in the neck clothe which he felt could hardly have been bettered by the Beau himself.

The footman entered, and announced the arrival of Admiral and Mr Tellero. Patrick was too engaged in trying to prevent any further creases by the simple expedient of gradually lowering his jaw, to pay any heed, but Elizabeth jumped up at once. "Oh Parte, do make haste! It is our cousin! Beg the Admiral to wait, Jackie. We will come directly. Is Mrs Andromeda downstairs? Oh then, she will see to it all! Parte, will you never be done?"

The cravat had by this time been reduced to more normal proportions. Patrick studied it anxiously in the mirror, tried with a cautious finger to perfect one of the creases, and announced gloomily that it would have to do. It was still too high to permit the turning of his head more than an inch or two to either sides, but this he assured Elizabeth was nothing at all out of the way.

The next business was to get him into his new coat, an elegant blue creation made of the prescribed Bath coating, with long tails, and silver buttons. It fitted him so exactly that the services of the footman had to be engaged to assist in inserting him into it. It seemed at one time as though not even the united efforts of two able bodied men could succeed in doing this, but after a grim struggle it was done, and Patrick, panting slightly from his exertions, turned to his sister and proudly asked her how he looked.

There was a laugh in her eye, but she assured him he was quite the thing. In any other man, she would have ruthlessly condemned so absurdly waisted a coat, so monstrous a cravat, such skin tight pantaloons, but Patrick was very much her sweetheart, and must be allowed to dress himself up in any dandified way he pleased.

She did indeed suggest that his golden locks were in considerable disorder, but upon being informed that this was intentional, and had taken him half an hour to achieve, she said no more, but took his arm and went down with him to the saloon upon the first floor.

Here they found Mrs Andromeda seated on a confidante beside a stout flushed looking gentleman with grizzled hair, in whom Miss Tellero had no difficulty in recognizing her late father's brother. Mr Bartholomew Tellaro occupied a chair opposite to him, but upon the door opening to admit his cousins, he immediately got up, and made his bow. There was a certain warmth in his smile; his look seemed to approve, even to admire. Elizabeth could only be glad to think that she had chosen that morning to put on the jonquil dress with the lace trimming, and the new kid shoes of celestial blue.

The Admiral had got up ponderously from the confidante, and now came forward with his hand held out and a look of decided relish upon his florid countenance. "So!" he said. "My little niece! Well, my dear! Well!"

She had a moment's fear that he was going to kiss her, a circumstance she could not look forward to with any equanimity, since he smelled strongly of spirits. She put out her hand in a decided way, and after a moment's hesitation he took it, and held it between both his hands. "So you are poor Daniel's daughter!" he said with a somewhat gusty sigh. "Ah, that was a sad business! I was never more shocked in my life".

He brows drew together slightly. She bowed, and withdrew her hand. She could not suppose him sincere, and while determined on showing him all the observance which their relationship demanded, she could not like him. She said merely, "my brother Patrick, sir".

They shook hands. The Admiral clapped his nephew on the shoulder, supposed him to have come to town to cure a dash, did not blame him, but begged him to be careful of his company, else he would find himself without a feather to fly with. This was all said with a great air of joviality, while Patrick smiled politely, and inwardly consigned his uncle to the devil.