Sprig Muslin Read Online Free PDF

intangible way she reminded him of Clarissa. Not that she was really like Clarissa, for Clarissa had been divinely fair. Perhaps, he thought, with a tiny pang, the resemblance lay in her wilful look, and the tilt of her obstinate chin. At all events, she was far too young and too pretty to be going about the country unattended; and no more unsuitable resting-place than the common inn to which the landlord had directed her could have been found for her. If she were an errant schoolgirl, it clearly behoved a man of honour to restore her to her family.
    Sir Gareth came away from the window, saying, with his attractive smile: "Forgive me, but can I perhaps be of some assistance?"
    She eyed him uncertainly, not shyly, but with speculation in her candid gaze. Before she could answer, the landlord said that there was no need for the gentleman to trouble himself. He would have expanded the remark, but was checked. Sir Gareth said, quite pleasantly, but on a note of authority: "It appears to me that there is considerable need. It is quite out of the question that this lady should spend the night at the Rose and Crown." He smiled down at the lady again. "Suppose you were to tell me where you want to go to? I don't think, you know, that your mama would wish you to stay at any inn without your maid."
    "Well, I haven't got a mama," replied the lady, with the air of one triumphing in argument.
    "I beg your pardon. Your father, then?"
    "And I haven't got a father either!"
    "Yes, I can see that you think you have now driven me against the ropes," he said, amused. "And, of course, if both your parents are dead we shall never know what they would have felt about it. How would it be if we discussed the matter over a little refreshment? What would you like?"
    Her eyes brightened; she said cordially: "I should be very much obliged to you, sir, if you would procure a glass of lemonade for me, for I am excessively thirsty, and this odious man wouldn't bring it to me!"
    The landlord said explosively: "Your honour! Miss walks in here, as you see her, wanting me to tell her when the next coach is due for Huntingdon, and when I say there won't be one, not till tomorrow, first she asks me if I'm needing a chambermaid, and when I tell her I'm not needing any such thing, she up and says she'll hire a room for the night! Now, I put it to your honour—"
    "Never mind!" interrupted Sir Gareth, only the faintest tremor in his voice betraying the laughter that threatened to overcome him. "Just be good enough to fetch the lady a glass of lemonade, and, for me, a tankard of your homebrewed, and we will see what can be done to straighten out this tangle!"
    The landlord started to say something about the respectability of his house, thought better of it, and withdrew. Sir Gareth pulled a chair out from the table, and sat down, saying persuasively: "Now that we are rid of him, do you feel that you could tell me who you are, and how you come to be wandering about the country in this rather odd way? My name, I should tell you, is Ludlow—Sir Gareth Ludlow, entirely at your service!"
    "How do you do?" responded the lady politely.
    "Well?" said Sir Gareth, the twinkle in his eye quizzing her. "Am I, like the landlord, to call you miss? I really can't address you as ma'am: you put me much too strongly in mind of my eldest niece, when she's in mischief."
    She had been eyeing him rather warily, but this remark seemed to reassure her, which was what it was meant to do. She said: "My name is Amanda, sir. Amanda S—Smith!"
    "Amanda Smith, I regret to be obliged to inform you that you are a shockingly untruthful girl," said Sir Gareth calmly.
    "It is a very good name!" she said, on the defensive.
    "Amanda is a charming name, and Smith is very well in its way, but it is not your surname. Come, now!"
    She shook her head, the picture of pretty mulishness. "I shan't tell you. If I did, you might know who I am, and I have a particular reason for not wishing anyone to know