LORD OF MANY SECRETS

TWENTY FIVE

Two days later Mr Alexandra came to call in Spear Street, and stayed for three quarters of an hour. Miss Tellaro offered him a frank apology for her unwitting rudeness, but he shook his head at her. "A great many people have heard me say rude things, ma'am, but no one has ever heard me commit the folly of apologizing for them", he told her. The only apology you should make me is for having mistaken Mr Freshman for me. A blow, ma'am, I confess. I thought it had not been possible that anyone should do that".

"You see, sir, you came in behind him, and he was so very fine", she excused herself.

"His tailor makes him", said Mr Alexandra. "Now I, I make my tailor".

Miss Tellaro wished that Patrick could have been present to hear this pronouncement.

By the time Mr Alexandra got up to go, all the favorable impressions he had made on her at Almack's were confirmed. He was a charming companion, his deportment being particularly good, and his manners grateful and without affectation. He had a droll way of producing his sayings which amused her, and either because it entertained him to take an exactly opposite view to Mr Cliff, or because he desired to oblige his friend Clements, he was good enough to take an interest in her debut. He advised her not to abate the least jot of her disastrous frankness. She might be as outspoken as she chose.

Miss Tellaro shot a triumphant glance at her chaperon. "And may I drive my own phaeton in the Park, sir?"

"By all means", said Mr Alexandra. "Nothing could be better. Do everything in your power to be out of the ordinary".

Miss Tellaro took his advice, and straight away commissioned her brother to procure her a perch-phaeton, and a pair of carriage horses. Nothing in his stables would do for her. She only wished that she might have gone with him to Fracati's. She did not trust his ability to pick a fine horse.

Fortunately, the Earl of Clements took a hand in the affair before Patrick had inspected more than half a dozen of the sweet going, beautiful stepping, forward actioned bargains advertised in the columns of the Morning Post. He arrived in Spear Street one late afternoon, driving his own curricle, and found Miss Tellaro on the point of setting out for the promenade in Lake Park. "I shall not detain you long", he said, laying down his hat and gloves on the table. "You have purchased, I believe, a perch-phaeton for your own use?"

"Certainly", said Miss Tellaro.

He looked her over. "Are you able to drive it?"

"I should not otherwise have purchased it, Lord Clements".

"May I suggest that a plain phaeton would be a safer conveyance for a lady?"

"You may suggest what you please, sir. I am driving a perch-phaeton".

"I am not sure", he said. "You have not yet convinced me that you are able to drive it".

She glanced out of the window at his tiger, standing to the head of the restless wheelers harnessed to the curricle. The Earl was not driving his chestnuts today, but a team of greys. "Let me assure you, sir, that I am not only capable of handling a pair, but I could drive your team just as easily!" she declared.

"Very well", said the Earl unexpectedly. "Drive it!"

She was quite taken aback. "Do you mean - now?"

"Why not? Are you afraid?"

"Afraid! I should like nothing better, but I am not dressed for driving".

"You may have twenty minutes", said the Earl, moving over to a chair by the table.

Miss Tellaro was by no means pleased at this cool way of dismissing her, but she was too anxious to prove her driving skills to stay to argue the point. She whisked herself out of the room, and up the stairs, set a bell pealing for her maid, and informed her astonished chaperon that there would be no walk in the Park. She was going driving with my Lord Clements.

She joined his lordship again in just a quarter of an hour, having changed her floating muslins for a severely cut habit made of some dark clothe, and a small velvety hat turned up on one side from her clustering gold ringlets, and with a curled feather hanging down on the other. "I am ready, my lord", she said, drawing on a pair of serviceable York tan gloves.

He held open the door for her. "Permit me to tell you, Miss Tellaro, that what ever else may be at fault, your taste in dresses is unimpeachable".

"I do not admit, sir, that there is anything at fault", flashed Miss Tellaro.

At the sight of her, the waiting tiger touched his hat, but bent a severely inquiring glance on his master.

Miss Tellaro took the whip and reins in her hands, and mounted into the driving seat, scorning assistance.

"Take your orders from Miss Tellaro, Harry", said the Earl, getting up beside his ward.

"Me lord, you ain't never going to let a female drive us?" Said Harry almost tearfully. "What about my pride?"

"Swallow it, Harry", replied the Earl amicably.

The tiger's chest swelled. He gazed woodenly at a nearby lamp post and said in an ominous voice, "I heard as how Major Frankline was wanting me for his tiger. Come to my ears, it did. Lord Baltimore too. I don't know how much he wouldn't give to get a hold of me".

"You had much better go to Sir Howard Jones", recommended Clements. "I will give you a note for him".

The tiger turned a look of indignant reproach upon him. "Yes, and where will you be if I did?" he demanded.

Miss Tellaro gave her horses the order to start, and said imperatively, "stand away from their heads! If you are afraid, wait for us here".

The tiger let go of the wheelers and made a dash for his perch. As he scrambled up into it he said with strong emotion, "I've sat behind you sober, Gov'nor, and I've sat behind you foxed, and I sat behind you when you raced Sir John to Vermicino, and never made no complaint, but I ain't never sat behind you mad!" with which he folded his arms, nodded darkly, and relapsed into a disapproving silence.