"Certainly you may; I want you to. You must cheer her up and say nice things to her. Poor child, I wish she weren't so ridiculously pleased with you. You don't care two straws for her."
"I give you my word of honour that I will make her happy."
"I suppose you'll make her as happy as any one would. It's always something to get one's wish, even if the wish is a failure."
"Now, why do you say that? It won't be a failure."
"All right. I'll send her to you. Now be a good boy, Harry. I'm jealous—for Alec—of the Green Gate." She smiled in her attractive way. "Will there be an absolute rupture between you and your ... cousins, do you think?"
"Oh, good heavens, Lady Walmer, no!" said Harry rather irritably. "We shall all be perfect friends, of course ... what impossible things you expect."
"I expect only what is certain."
She went away.
Vanity was as elemental in Harry as in any other good-looking young man. With him, though, it was not a mere useless pursuit—an art-for-art's-sake joy—but invariably calculated and used as a means to an end.
He looked in the glass earnestly, then started as Alec came in.