“Is your father living?”
“No; I have the title,” the Duke reminded him.
“True. At what age did he die?”
“As far as I can recollect, at about thirty-eight or forty. I could easily ascertain.”
“That may not be necessary. What did he die of?”
The Duke’s cheeks burned. But he saw the folly of temporizing with a man like Vanbrugh. The story of Lord Alexander was perfectly well known in London.
“Of delirium tremens, I am afraid.”
Sir Bernard’s eyebrows lifted, and he shot a painful glance at the unfortunate son.
“Your mother,” he hastened to say, “I know is alive. What is her state of health?”
The Duke was glad to be able to reply altogether satisfactorily. He was beginning to breathe again when the scientist put the fatal question: