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"Well, would you please, sir, march upstairs where we can get a cab to carry your highness to the police station?" "That is better," said John Clay serenely. He made a sweeping bow to the three of us, and walked quietly off in the custody of the detective. "Really, Mr. Holmes," said Mr. Merryweather, as we followed them from the cellar, "I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you.
Merryweather?" "Oh," cried Gerald, dancing on one foot, "observe his blushes! Observe the cabbage rose in all its purple pride! Isn't he lovely? But you are not going to call us 'Mister, in earnest, Miss Grahame? You cannot have the heart! We are not accustomed to it, and there is no knowing what effect it may have on my ardent nature, or on Ferguson's flabby disposition."
"I I think it was your brother Obadiah," she said to Bell. The latter stared, open-eyed. "My brother Obadiah?" she repeated. "How did you know I beg your pardon! but why do you say Obadiah?" Hildegarde glanced at her mother, who was laughing openly. "You will have to make full confession, Hilda," she said. "I do not think Mrs. Merryweather will be very severe with you."
Gertrude had knocked down a great pink vase, and broken it into fifty pieces; she had also fallen over it, and now sat among the ruins on the floor, too frightened to cry, while the others picked up the pieces as best they might. "Colonel Ferrers, what will you think of us?" cried Mrs. Merryweather, looking up as her host entered the room. "This unlucky child of mine has done something dreadful.
Merryweather held out what she thought was her hand, but Hildegarde shook instead a small morocco volume, and was well content when she saw that it was the "Golden Treasury." "Bell has had such pleasure that I have been most anxious to share it, and to know you and your daughter. Shall we be neighbourly? I am the most unceremonious person in the world.
Merryweather, the stake will be some 30,000 pounds; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands." "John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He's a young man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I would rather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He's a remarkable man, is young John Clay.
"I wanted to ask," said Gerald, "if you don't mind telling us, that is well I was only thinking that perhaps those cigars you offered us were they very mild ones, Colonel Ferrers?" The Colonel looked grave for a moment, then he gave way and laughed aloud. "Found me out, hey?" he said. "Well, since you ask me, Master Merryweather, I believe they were not the mildest that are made.
"Bell, I want Mrs. and Miss Grahame to see our other children," said Mrs. Merryweather, presently. "Where is Toots, and where are the boys?" "Toots is upstairs, poor lamb!" Bell replied.
If certain of her characters Abel Revercomb, Reuben Merryweather, Betsey Bottom seem at times a little too much like certain of Thomas Hardy's rustics, still the resemblance is hardly greater than that which actually exists between parts of rural Virginia and rural Wessex; Miss Glasgow is at least as faithful to her scene as if she had devoted herself solely to a chronicle of rich planters, poor whites, and obeisant freedmen.
"You are not very vulnerable from above," Holmes remarked, as he held up the lantern and gazed about him. "Nor from below," said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon the flags which lined the floor. "Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow!" he remarked, looking up in surprise. "I must really ask you to be a little more quiet," said Holmes, severely.
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