But Daniel Lane was not of this autocratic class; nor could she picture him living in England. If he succeeded to the Barthampton earldom he would make an appalling mess of it; if he had to wear London clothes he would look a sight; and if he shared the conjugal bed, it would probably be on the roof or in the shrubbery, with gnats and things biting your nose or an icy wind blowing around your legs.
She noticed her father’s strategic dispositions one morning just after Christmas, when Charles Barthampton called to take her to a military review. She went into the study to tell him of her proposed absence; but Lord Blair put his foot down, saying to her that if she attended this particular function she ought to do so in the company of a civilian, so as to avoid inter-regimental jealousies: a palpable excuse which did not bear scrutiny. He suggested that Daniel Lane should go with her; and before Lord Barthampton could escape, his cousin was sent for, and Muriel went off into the garden in annoyance, leaving the three men together in the hall. Lord Blair thereupon tripped back to his study, bidding Daniel offer his cousin refreshment in the library.
Lord Barthampton, however, was scowling with anger, and would have taken his departure immediately. But Daniel took him by the arm in a grip which, though friendly, was one of iron, and, forcing him into a chair, handed him a cigar.
“Have a whisky-and-soda?” he then suggested.
“No,” his cousin grunted. “I’m a teetotaller, damn you.”
Daniel chuckled. “Good for you,” he laughed. “Have some barley water?”
At this Lord Barthampton scrambled to his feet, but Daniel gently pushed him back into the chair.
“I want to have a talk with you,” he said. “I want to tell you how glad I am to see that you are pulling yourself together. You look a different man already.”
His cousin glared at him warily from under his heavy brows. “Yes,” he replied, “I’m not going to give you any excuse for turning me out. When you do so, you’ll have to do it against my father’s wishes and intentions; and I hope he’ll come back from the grave and haunt you.”
He spoke with dramatic gloom, and Daniel could not help being sorry for him.