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Updated: May 5, 2025
Kathleen had framed the wish most sensibly. The only mistake had been in saying "in our own beds" because, of course, Mabel's own bed was at Yalding Towers, and to this day Mabel's drab-haired aunt cannot understand how Mabel, who was staying the night with that child in the town she was so taken up with, hadn't come home at eleven, when the aunt locked up, and yet she was in her bed in the morning.
Why didn't we know he was Lord Yalding? Apes and moles that we were!" "I've known since last night," said Mabel calmly; "only I promised not to tell. I can keep a secret, can't I?" "Too jolly well," said Kathleen, a little aggrieved. "He was disguised as a bailiff," said Jimmy; "that's why we didn't know." "Disguised as a fiddle-stick-end," said Gerald. "Ha, ha!
"I say, you are clever," said Gerald respectfully. "To what good to have the talent, when one must pass one's life at teaching the infants?" said Mademoiselle. "It must be fairly beastly," Gerald owned. "You, too, see the design?" Mademoiselle asked Mabel, adding: "A friend from the town, yes?" "How do you do?" said Mabel politely. "No, I'm not from the town. I live at Yalding Towers."
"I said that to that nice bailiff-man this morning," said Mabel, setting herself on the stone floor, "and he said it wasn't much to let them come once a week. He said Lord Yalding ought to let them come when they liked said he would if he lived there." "That's all he knows!" said Jimmy. "Did he say anything else?" "Lots," said Mabel. "I do like him! I told him ," "You didn't!" "Yes.
Lord Yalding had had an interview with Mabel's aunt, and lunch for six was laid in the great dark hall, among the armour and the oak furniture a beautiful lunch served on silver dishes. Mademoiselle, becoming every moment younger and more like a Princess, was moved to tears when Gerald rose, lemonade-glass in hand, and proposed the health of "Lord and Lady Yalding".
When Lord Yalding had returned thanks in a speech full of agreeable jokes the moment seemed to Gerald propitious, and he said: "The ring, you know you don't believe in it, but we do. May we have it back?" And got it. Then, after a hasty council, held in the panelled jewel-room, Mabel said: "This is a wishing-ring, and I wish all the American's weapons of all sorts were here."
The name seemed to impress Mademoiselle very much. Gerald anxiously hoped in his own mind that she was not a snob. "Yalding Towers," she repeated, "but this is very extraordinary. Is it possible that you are then of the family of Lord Yalding?" "He hasn't any family," said Mabel; "he's not married." "I would say are you how you say? cousin sister niece?"
Kent is a county of bridges, picturesque medieval structures which have survived the lapse of time and the storms and floods of centuries. You can find several of these that span the Medway far from the busy railway lines and the great roads. There is a fine medieval fifteenth-century bridge at Yalding across the Beult, long, fairly level, with deeply embayed cutwaters of rough ragstone.
It is the bailiff coming back from the doctor's with antiseptic plaster on that nasty cut that took so long a-bathing this morning. They tell her it is the bailiff at Yalding Towers, and she says, "Ciel!" Lunch very late is a silent meal. After lunch Mademoiselle goes out, in a hat with many pink roses, carrying a rose-lined parasol.
"Of course they're real," said Mabel indignantly. "Well, anyway," said Lord Yalding, "thank you all very much. I think it's clearing up. I'll send the wagonette home with you after lunch. And if you don't mind, I'll have the ring." Half an hour of soap and water produced no effect whatever, except to make the finger of Gerald very red and very sore.
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