“I am overjoyed to see you. Sit down and make this place your home, for some time to come, at all events.”
“Ah, but I intend to do that,” cried the chevalier, with a shrug and a grimace. “Eh, but you’ve got a fine old palatial mansion, a grand old place, which I should imagine has stood for centuries—that is, if one is to judge from appearances.”
“It is very old—almost as old as our genealogical tree.”
“I should suppose so. Well, my young friend, I intend to enjoy myself while I am here, so you mustn’t think of assuming a serious or dejected aspect, for I tell you frankly I will not permit it. You are under my care now—do you understand?—and are to be as merry and jocund as possible.”
“I will endeavour to be so,” returned Reginald. “That is as far as circumstances will admit.”
“Bah! circumstances! What have you to complain of? Nothing—positively nothing!”
“Very well, it shall be as you say. I will not repine.”
“I hope not, indeed. I am not an envious man, my dear Ethalwood. If I were I should long to be in your position. You have youth, health, wealth, and bear an honoured name second to none within these realms. What more do you need?”
“A clear conscience,” returned the earl.
“Mon dieu, don’t be so weak and silly. You had better have some champagne, and we can talk this matter over at our leisure.”