“Give me some wine,” he said; then, after he had drank a glass, he demanded, almost sternly: “Why did you not tell me?”
“Tell you what?” asked Mr. Spenser Churchill, with a chuckle. “I told you she was a charming young lady——”
“And you wished me to think that you lied in saying so,” retorted the other. “Why did you not tell me that she was as beautiful as—she is?”
Spenser Churchill chuckled again.
“My dear Percy, I thought that a little surprise would not come amiss. If I had told you that she was pretty——”
“Pretty!”
“Well, beautiful—lovely—you would not have believed me!”
“No, I should not,” he said, curtly. “Don’t say any more. I want to think! Great Heaven, she is like a dream! Stop! Don’t talk, I say; I’m not equal to any of your smooth platitudes at present. Let me be in peace!”
Mr. Spenser Churchill laughed softly.
“Certainly, certainly, my dear Percy,” he said. “Yes, I can understand your astonishment. This claret is very fine——”