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A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY 91
Fitch believe his eyes ?—that fat woman in red satin !—Yes—no—
yes—he was, he was in the arms of Mrs. Carrickfergus !
The particulars of this meeting are too delicate to relate.
Suffice it that somehow matters were explained, Mr. Brandon was
let loose, and a fly was presently seen to drive up, into which Mr.
Fitch consented to enter with his new-found friend.
Brandon had some good movements in him. As Fitch was
getting into the carriage, he walked up to him and held out his left
hand : " I can't offer you my right hand, Mr. Fitch, for that cursed
courier's stick has maimed it ; but I hope you will allow me to
apologise for my shameful conduct to you, and to say that I never
in my life met a more gallant fellow than yourself."
" That he is, by Jove !" said my Lord Cinqbars.
Fitch blushed as red as a peony and trembled very much.
" And yet," said he, "you would have murdered me just now, Mr.
Brandon. I can't take your 'and, sir."
"Why, you great flat," said my Lord wisely, "he couldn't
have hurt you, nor you him. There wath no ballth in the
pithtolth."
" What," said Fitch, starting back, " do you gents call that a
joke ? Oh, my Lord, my Lord !" And here poor Fitch actually
burst into tears on the red satin bosom of Mrs. Carrickfergus: she
and Miss Runt were crying as hard as they could. And so, amidst
much shouting and huzzaing, the fly drove away.
" What a blubbering abthurd donkey !" said Cinqbars, with his
usual judgment ; " ain't he, Tufthunt ?"
Tufthunt, of course, said yes ; but Brandon was in a virtuous
mood. " By heavens ! I think his tears do the man honour.
When I came out with him this morning, I intended to act fairly
by him. And as for Mr. Tufthunt, who calls a man a coward
because he cries—Mr. Tufthunt knows well what a pistol is, and
that some men don't care to face it, brave as they are."
Mr. Tufthunt understood the hint, and bit his lips and walked
on. And as for that worthy moralist, Mr. Brandon, I am happy
to say that there was some good fortune in store for him, which,
though similar in kind to that bestowed lately upon Mr. Fitch, was
superior in degree.
It was no other than this, that forgetting all maidenly decency
and decorum, before Lord Viscount Cinqbars and his friend, that
silly little creature, Caroline Gann, rushed out from the parlour
into the passage—she had been at the window ever since she was
rid of her fainting fit ! and ah ! what agonies of fear had that little
panting heart endured during the half-hour of her lover's absence !—