Alistair saw that he was expected to be grateful, and he succeeded in appearing so, though in his heart he was half sorry to accept his brother’s favours for the sake of his creditors.
“If it were not for you I would not let Trent give a penny to these people,” he told his mother when they were by themselves.
“It is not only us you have to think of,” the Duchess seized the opportunity to suggest. “We hope you may find a wife who will make your life happy, and you would not like to go to her with any mark against your name.”
The Home Secretary had never spoken of Sir Bernard Vanbrugh’s refusal. His repulse had mortified him deeply, but he took it sedately as he took most other things. He blamed himself for not having made sure of Hero in the first place, and with a certain obstinacy he still clung to the idea that she would sooner or later be his.
Sir Bernard had been equally silent on his side. He did not know which way his daughter’s inclination went, and wanted to avoid a disagreement.
The Duchess, whose diplomacy was of the simplest order, went on to say to Alistair:
“Don’t you think you would like to come abroad for a little time? The Vanbrughs have a house at Dinard, and it would be very pleasant if you would take me over there.”
Alistair gazed at his mother in doubt. He could hardly misunderstand her drift, and the light in his eyes was a sufficient revelation to her of his own wishes. But the gossip which had reached him concerning his brother and Hero Vanbrugh held him back.
“What about Trent?” he said.
“He can’t leave town till Parliament rises, of course. He may join us afterwards, perhaps.”