"Oh, Drake's not a bad sort of fellow," said Lord Angleford, "but he's too fond of having his own way."
At this Lady Angleford had smiled; for she knew another member of the family who liked his own way.
She was waiting for Drake in the drawing-room, and gave him both her hands with a little impulsiveness which touched Drake.
"I am so glad you have come," she said; "and your uncle is very glad, too. You won't—get to arguing, will you? You English are such dreadful people to argue. And I think he has a slight attack of the gout, though he was quite angry when I hinted at it this morning."
Drake sincerely hoped his uncle hadn't, for everybody's sake. At that moment the earl came into the room, held out his hand, and said, as if he had parted with Drake only the night before:
"How are you, Drake? Glad to see you. You've met Lady Angleford already? Isn't it nearly dinner time?"
Drake took Lady Angleford in. There were no guests besides himself, and they had quite a pleasant little dinner. Lady Angleford talked with all the vivacity and charm of a cultured American who has seen both sides of the world, and kept her eyes open, and Drake began to feel as if he had known her for years. The earl was in a singularly good humor and listened to, and smiled at, his young wife proudly, and talked to Drake as if nothing had happened. It was just like old times; and Drake, as he opened the door for Lady Angleford, on her way to the drawing-room, smiled down at her, and nodded as she looked up at him questioningly.
Then he went back to his chair, and the butler put the Angleford port in its wicker cradle before the earl.
"I oughtn't to touch a drop," he said, "for I've had a twinge or two lately; but on this occasion——"
He filled his glass, and passed the bottle to Drake—the butler had left the room.