Hermes placed his arm round the shoulders of the young lord and gave him a playful roll. Then he said with good accent and pronunciation, but with a certain rough quality of voice, and louder than English gentlemen usually speak, “Your money is as safe as the mint, my boy.”
Evidently, Alice thought, the stranger was an intimate friend of Lord Worthington. She resolved to be particular in her behavior before him, if introduced.
“Lord Worthington,” said Lydia.
At the sound of her voice he climbed hastily down from the step of the carriage, and said in some confusion, “How d’ do, Miss Carew. Lovely country and lovely weather—must agree awfully well with you. Plenty of leisure for study, I hope.”
“Thank you; I never study now. Will you make a book for me at Ascot?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I am ashamed of my low tastes,” he said; “but I haven’t the heap to distinguish myself in your—Eh?”
Miss Carew was saying in a low voice, “If your friend is my tenant, introduce him to me.”
Lord Worthington hesitated, looked at Lucian, seemed perplexed and amused at the name time, and at last said,
“You really wish it?”
“Of course,” said Lydia. “Is there any reason—”