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Sport Royal, and Other Stories

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2017
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A few minutes passed, and then my clerk announced, “A lady to see you, sir.”

A remarkably pretty girl of about eighteen was ushered in. She stood still some way from me till the door was closed. Then she suddenly rushed toward me, fell at my feet, and exclaimed, “You will protect me, won’t you?”

“My dear young lady, what in the world – ”

“You’re the famous Mr. Miller, aren’t you? Mr. Joseph Miller, the philanthropist?”

“My name is Joseph Miller certainly.”

“Ah! Then I am safe;” and she sat down in an armchair, and smiled confidingly at me.

“Madam,” said I sternly, “will you have the goodness to explain to what I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“They told me to come to you.”

“Who?”

“Why, the people at the police station.”

“The police station?”

“Yes, when they let me go – because it was a first offense, you know. They said you always took up cases like mine, and that if I stuck to you I should be well looked after.”

It was quite true that I have taken an interest in rescuing young persons from becoming habitual criminals; but I was hardly prepared for this.

“What have you been doing?”

“Oh, nothing this time – only a bracelet.”

“This time?”

“They didn’t know me up here,” she explained smilingly. “I’ve always practiced in the country. Wasn’t it lucky? But really, Mr. Miller, I’m tired of it; I am indeed. The life is too exciting: the doctors say so; so I’ve come to you.”

The case was a strange one, but I had no time to investigate it now. It wanted only half an hour to the time my train left Liverpool Street.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Sarah Jones.”

“Well, I will have your case looked into. Come and see me again; or, if you are in distress, you may write to me – at Colonel Gunton’s, Beech Hill, Norfolk. I shall be staying there – ”

“Going now?”

“I start in a few minutes.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you.”

“Madam,” I answered, with emphasis, “I will see you – out of the office first.”

“But what am I to do? Oh, it’s nonsense! I shall come. I shall say I belong to you.”

I rang the bell. “Show this lady out, Thomas, at once.”

She laughed, bowed, and went. Evidently a most impudent hussy. I finished my business, drove to Liverpool Street, and established myself in a first-class smoking carriage. I was alone, and settled myself for a comfortable cigar. I was rudely interrupted. Just as the train was starting, the door opened – and that odious young woman jumped in.

“There! I nearly missed you!” she said.

“I can hold no communication with you,” said I severely; “you are a disgrace to your – er – sex.”

“It’s all right. I’ve wired to the colonel.”

“You’ve wired to my friend Colonel Gunton?”

“Yes, I didn’t want to surprise them. I said you would bring a friend with you. It’s all right, Mr. Miller.”

“I don’t know who you are or what you are; but the Guntons are respectable people, and I am a respectable man, and – ”

“That’s no reason why you should promenade up and down, Mr. Miller. It’s very uncomfortable for me.”

“What is the meaning of this insolent behavior?”

“Why not be friendly? We’re off now, and I must go on.”

“I shall give you in charge at the next station.”

“What for?”

On reflection, I supposed she had committed no criminal offense; and with a dignified air I opened my paper.

“I don’t mind you smoking,” she said, and took out a box of chocolates.

I was at my wits’ end. Either this girl was mad or she was a dangerous and unscrupulous person. She was quite capable of making a most unpleasant and discreditable commotion on the platform at Beach Hill Station. What in the world was I to do?

“Shall we stay long at the Guntons’?” she asked.

“You, madam, will never go there.”

“Oh, yes, I shall.”

“Indeed you won’t. I’ll take care of that. The police will see to that.”

“I don’t care a fig for the police. I shall go and stay as long as you do. They told me to stick to you.”

I became angry. Any man would have. But nothing was to be gained by losing my temper. I took out a sovereign.

“If you’ll get out at the next station, I’ll give you this.”

She laughed merrily. “I thought you went in for personal supervision, not mere pecuniary doles,” she said; “I read that in your speech at the Charity Organization meeting. No; I’m not to be bribed. I’m going to the Guntons’.”

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