"They are going out for a walk together. It's a case," said Bobby Trench boldly.
"Whatever put that into your head?" enquired her ladyship, with wide-open eyes. "It's quite absurd."
"Oh, I think Susan's a very nice girl," replied Bobby Trench. "Though I admit it's absurd to take much notice of her while you're about."
Lady Aldeburgh hit his sleeve again with her jewelled hand. "If you talk like that I shall go away," she said. "When I said it was absurd I meant that neither of them has a shilling."
"Humphrey ought to have a good many shillings if he plays his hand well with old Papa Beetroot just now," replied Bobby Trench. "There's a deuce of an upset. I should hold for a rise if I were you."
"You shouldn't talk so disrespectfully. You are disrespectful to me, and to Mr. Clinton, who is a relation of mine—and the head of our family, or so he says. And as for Humphrey, he's a nice boy—certainly the pick of this particular bunch—but Susan wouldn't look at him."
"Why not? He's civilised, if his people aren't."
"She could do much better, and I shouldn't allow it. Of course they are friends, and I don't mind that. You must remember that they are cousins."
"Is it fifty-sixth or fifty-seventh cousins?" asked Bobby Trench innocently. "Well, you know best, of course, but you've got other girls besides Susan to look after, and if you don't take care she'll get left. No, my dear lady, it's no use trying to deceive me. You're quite ready to let Susan marry Humphrey if Papa Mangel-Wurzel will put up the stakes. Aren't you, now? Confess."
"I shan't confess anything so ridiculous," said Lady Aldeburgh petulantly. "What I want to do is to play bridge, and relieve myself of this frightful boredom. I shouldn't have come here if I'd known what it was like. Can't we get a four?"