carriage.
When Mr. Dalton called, he was driving his curricle, so I felt I had dressed wisely. "Hennie is not able to come with us," I said.
Mr. Dalton was too well bred to show his pleasure, but a hint of it peeped out in his smile. We drove first along the seashore, past the fish market to the Hove, while Dalton explained that this was the south boundary of Brighton. Then he headed north and pointed out a few points of interest, ending up at the Prince's pavilion.
That lovely folly is too well known to harp on, but it is just as marvelous as everyone says, with its lovely big dome and all sorts of lesser domes and minarets like something out of an Eastern fable. You half expect to see a flying carpet shoot out of a tower window.
"Lord Harelson offered to show me the pavilion," I mentioned, as I wished to bring this gentleman's name forward.
"His papa, Lord Comstock, used to be one of Prinny's set" was all he said.
"Do you think Lady Filmore will marry him?" was my next effort to draw him out.
"Perhaps, one day. She is young. There is no hurry."
"You would not object to the match?"
"It is hard to object to a gentleman of good birth and fortune and character," he replied. I did not sense any enthusiasm, but no real opposition either. It hardly seemed my place to quiz him further. Lady Filmore would tell him what she wished him to know.
We drove back toward the beach. Dalton suggested we alight for a walk along the shingles to enjoy the sea air. There were bathing machines with ladies and gentlemen taking a dip. I thought I might try it one day, but first I would have to have a proper bathing gown made up. They were exceedingly ugly, like long gray flannelette nightgowns.
Hawkers were selling ices and cold drinks. Dalton bought two ices, and we sat on a bench to enjoy them. "I would like to ask you something, Miss Denver," he said. His face was suddenly serious. Not only serious, but almost sheepish.
I knew this was not going to be a romantic something. That was not the way he looked. I sensed that it had to do with Harelson, and expressed the keenest interest.
"It is about that notice in the journals, of your coming to Brighton," he said.
"I have been wanting to speak to you about that, Mr. Dalton. I fear your friends overestimate my wealth. How did you know about the tin mine, and Cornwall?"
"I took the trouble to find out who you are, after you dropped that stolen ring in my pocket." That took the wind out of my sails entirely. I considered denying it, but his knowing eyes made a mockery of that notion.
"How did you find out about me? I don't know your set."
"Your man of business, Mr. Foster, knows many people. He knows my man of business. That is how I found out. There are not that many heiresses on the town that your secret is safe, no matter how closely you tried to guard it."
I sat like a mute, not disabusing him of the notion that I had voluntarily consigned myself to anonymity. "I see," I said. "I expect you know the extent of my fortune?"
"I do, and it is an impressive size. Too large for you to be stealing rings. I assumed, therefore, that you were telling me the truth about how you came by the emerald."
"Of course I was telling the truth! Do you take me for a common thief?"
"No, a very uncommon one," he said, and laughed. "And if society overestimates your fortune, then you are in vogue with the rest of the heiresses. One automatically cuts every fortune rumor in half, then in half again, to get at an idea of the true size."
"What was it you wished to discuss then? I took the ring in a moment's pique when I discovered Parker's stunt with my diamond. I did drop the ring in your pocket. It was a horrid thing to do, but I was afraid I would be arrested and found with the thing in my pocket. You knew it was there all along?"
"Certainly. I discovered it not ten minutes later, and soon figured out how it had got there. I thought I would have to loiter about at Shepherd's Market to find you again.
When Mr. Dalton called, he was driving his curricle, so I felt I had dressed wisely. "Hennie is not able to come with us," I said.
Mr. Dalton was too well bred to show his pleasure, but a hint of it peeped out in his smile. We drove first along the seashore, past the fish market to the Hove, while Dalton explained that this was the south boundary of Brighton. Then he headed north and pointed out a few points of interest, ending up at the Prince's pavilion.
That lovely folly is too well known to harp on, but it is just as marvelous as everyone says, with its lovely big dome and all sorts of lesser domes and minarets like something out of an Eastern fable. You half expect to see a flying carpet shoot out of a tower window.
"Lord Harelson offered to show me the pavilion," I mentioned, as I wished to bring this gentleman's name forward.
"His papa, Lord Comstock, used to be one of Prinny's set" was all he said.
"Do you think Lady Filmore will marry him?" was my next effort to draw him out.
"Perhaps, one day. She is young. There is no hurry."
"You would not object to the match?"
"It is hard to object to a gentleman of good birth and fortune and character," he replied. I did not sense any enthusiasm, but no real opposition either. It hardly seemed my place to quiz him further. Lady Filmore would tell him what she wished him to know.
We drove back toward the beach. Dalton suggested we alight for a walk along the shingles to enjoy the sea air. There were bathing machines with ladies and gentlemen taking a dip. I thought I might try it one day, but first I would have to have a proper bathing gown made up. They were exceedingly ugly, like long gray flannelette nightgowns.
Hawkers were selling ices and cold drinks. Dalton bought two ices, and we sat on a bench to enjoy them. "I would like to ask you something, Miss Denver," he said. His face was suddenly serious. Not only serious, but almost sheepish.
I knew this was not going to be a romantic something. That was not the way he looked. I sensed that it had to do with Harelson, and expressed the keenest interest.
"It is about that notice in the journals, of your coming to Brighton," he said.
"I have been wanting to speak to you about that, Mr. Dalton. I fear your friends overestimate my wealth. How did you know about the tin mine, and Cornwall?"
"I took the trouble to find out who you are, after you dropped that stolen ring in my pocket." That took the wind out of my sails entirely. I considered denying it, but his knowing eyes made a mockery of that notion.
"How did you find out about me? I don't know your set."
"Your man of business, Mr. Foster, knows many people. He knows my man of business. That is how I found out. There are not that many heiresses on the town that your secret is safe, no matter how closely you tried to guard it."
I sat like a mute, not disabusing him of the notion that I had voluntarily consigned myself to anonymity. "I see," I said. "I expect you know the extent of my fortune?"
"I do, and it is an impressive size. Too large for you to be stealing rings. I assumed, therefore, that you were telling me the truth about how you came by the emerald."
"Of course I was telling the truth! Do you take me for a common thief?"
"No, a very uncommon one," he said, and laughed. "And if society overestimates your fortune, then you are in vogue with the rest of the heiresses. One automatically cuts every fortune rumor in half, then in half again, to get at an idea of the true size."
"What was it you wished to discuss then? I took the ring in a moment's pique when I discovered Parker's stunt with my diamond. I did drop the ring in your pocket. It was a horrid thing to do, but I was afraid I would be arrested and found with the thing in my pocket. You knew it was there all along?"
"Certainly. I discovered it not ten minutes later, and soon figured out how it had got there. I thought I would have to loiter about at Shepherd's Market to find you again.
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