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Billy, in dark-blue Peter Thompsons, in black stockings and laced boots, had been dropped in among other little girls in Peter Thompsons and laced boots, little girls with the approved names of Whittaker and Bowditch, Moran and Merridew and Parmalee. Billy had never doubted her stepmother's judgment; like all of the new Mrs.
Jeffrey Merridew was disposed to be, his nephew's close proximity could not, under the peculiar circumstances, but be embarrassing and disturbing on occasions; for the young man, besides being his nephew, was Sibyl's brother, and Sibyl, as a member of a royalist's family, for her father on his departure for Barbadoes had left his motherless girl in her uncle's charge, could not, of course, be allowed free intercourse with one who had placed himself in an attitude of active hostility to the royal cause.
"Moriarty himself is enough to make any letter illustrious, and here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominable memory, and Mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waiting-room at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is our friend of to-night." He handed over the book, and I read: "MORAN, SEBASTIAN, COLONEL. Unemployed. Formerly 1st Bengalore Pioneers. Born London, 1840.
"But Eph, such a boy as Eph, only nineteen, only two years older than I! What harm could he do now, more than he has ever done, by coming to his uncle's house as a visitor?" still persisted Sibyl, rather foolishly. "What harm!" exclaimed Mr. Merridew, impatiently. "What a child you are, Sibyl! Why, his coming here would compromise me fatally with the royal government.
She was at the same time, however, not in a position to offer me any explanation, or to press Rachel on a matter which appeared to relate to a question of private feeling alone. This was said over and over again, with a polite patience that nothing could tire; and this was all I gained by applying to Mrs. Merridew. My last chance was to write to Rachel.
Merridew, flinging back his head with irrepressible laughter at Sibyl's ignorance. Why, my dear, the reporting of important facts, however gained in times of war, is part of war tactics; it is not called 'telling tales." "And would you would you, if you were in Ephraim's camp as a visitor, would you " "Tell tales?" laughed Mr. Merridew.
The note hints that the old lady's generally excellent temper is a little ruffled, and requests all due indulgence for her, in consideration of her age and her habits. I will endeavour, in my relations with Mrs. Merridew, to emulate the moderation which Betteredge displays in his relations with me. He received us to-day, portentously arrayed in his best black suit, and his stiffest white cravat.
But Miss Peggy might say to Susan later, with a bright, pitying smile: "Alice will ROAR when I tell her about this! Lord and Lady Merridew, that's simply delicious! I love it!" "Bandar-log," Bocqueraz called them, and Susan often thought of the term in these days.
Once she would have agreed with him as a matter of course, but now she had a sort of feeling that she really knew more about it than he did. What would he say if he knew that the bright little maid Mrs Merridew had admired came from the very depths of Anchor and Hope Alley? Time went quickly by, till it was nearly a month since Pennie had gone away, and Keturah had come to help Betty.
The Earl's voice is not in good form for encouragement, but he does his best. "Come come! It's not so bad as all that yet. See what Merridew said. Couldn't say anything for certain for another three months. Indeed he said it might be more, and yet you might have your sight back again without a flaw in either eye. He really said so!" "Well he's a jolly good fellow.
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