finding her, apparently, upon the very best of terms with people of such quality, he hesitated to consider what course to adopt; whereon Lady Holmhurst in a somewhat formal way, for she was not very fond of Mr. Meeson, mistaking his hesitation, went on to introduce him. Thereupon, all in a moment, as we do sometimes take such resolutions, Augusta came to a determination. She would have nothing more to do with Mr. Meeson—she would repudiate him then and there, come what would of it.
So, as he advanced upon her with outstretched hand, she drew herself up, and in a cold and determined voice said, “I already know Mr. Meeson, Lady Holmhurst; and I do not wish to have anything more to do with him. Mr. Meeson has not behaved well to me.”
“ ’Pon my word,” murmured Lord Holmhurst to himself, “I don’t wonder she has had enough of him. Sensible young woman, that!”
Lady Holmhurst looked a little astonished and a little amused. Suddenly, however, a light broke upon her.
“Oh! I see,” she said. “I suppose that Mr. Meeson published ‘Jemima’s Vow.’ Of course that accounts for it. Why, I declare there is the dinner bell! Come along, Miss Smithers, or we shall lose the place the captain has promised us.” And, accordingly, they went, leaving Mr. Meeson, who had not yet realized the unprecedented nature of the position, positively gasping on the deck. And on board the Kangaroo there were no clerks and editors on whom he could wreck his wrath!
“And now, my dear Miss Smithers,” said Lady Holmhurst when, dinner being over, they were sitting together in the moonlight, near the wheel, “perhaps you will tell me why you don’t like Mr. Meeson, whom, by-the-way, I personally detest. But don’t, if you don’t wish to, you know.”
But Augusta did wish to, and then and there she unfolded her whole sad story into her new-found friend’s sympathetic ear; and glad enough the poor girl was to find a confidant to whom she could unbosom her sorrows.
“Well, upon my word!” said Lady Holmhurst, when she had listened with tears in her eyes to the history of poor little Jeannie’s death, “upon my word, of all the brutes I ever heard of, I think that this publisher of yours is the worst! I will cut him, and get my husband to cut him too. But no, I have a better plan than that. He shall tear up that agreement, so sure as my name is Bessie Holmhurst; he shall tear it up, or—or”—and she nodded her little head with an air of infinite wisdom.
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