“I didn’t know there was anything very desperate in raiding the Transvaal,” retorted Victoria, resuming her cynical vein. “I thought the worst thing you exposed yourself to was to have poetry written about you in the papers.”
A door opened at the end of the gallery, and Gerald hastily rose to his feet.
“Ah! I felt sure we should be interrupted,” said Victoria. “I believe my mother has me shadowed. Don’t go, Gerald,” she added, loudly enough for her parent to hear as she bore down upon the pair, the faithful Despencer following in the wake.
The marchioness came to a full stop at the opening, with a dramatic start.
“Victoria! I thought I had forbidden you to behave like this!”
Her daughter gave an amused smile.
“My dear mother, I thought we agreed only the other day that I was of age.”
The marchioness turned on her nephew as a less dangerous adversary.
“As for you, Gerald, I am surprised at you. You ought to know better than to come and sit here with your cousin.”
Victoria gallantly came to his rescue.