Lady Victoria gave him one crushing look, and turned to the marchioness.
“My dear mother, I wish you wouldn’t train Mr. Despencer to say these silly things. Surely he is not a suitor for my hand?”
“Be quiet, Victoria!” said her indignant parent. “From the way you treat him he might be your husband. But I’m sure it isn’t a thing for you to joke about. Do you remember that this is your third season, and that you are nearly twenty?”
Her daughter smiled in good-tempered derision.
“I think, as there is only Mr. Despencer here, I may as well remember that it is my fourth season, and that I am over twenty-one.”
The marchioness passed over the correction.
“All the more reason that you should seriously consider your position. The question is whether you really intend to be married or not.”
“Surely it isn’t a question of my intentions. You had better ask the men theirs. I presume they know I am in stock by this time.”
“It is idle to talk like that. I have offered you three men already, and you found fault with each of them.” The marchioness spoke with real feeling. “There was Sir Humphrey Bewley, a most eligible man, who quite raved about you. You complained that he was too old.”
“Old! He was prehistoric. He used to get excited about the Conquest.”