[CHAPTER XI.]
"What do you say?" said Lord Blair, staring at Austin Ambrose with astonishment. "You wouldn't tell the earl?"
"No," said Ambrose, lighting a cigarette and stretching out his legs with comfortable indolence. "I certainly should not."
"But—but why not?" demanded Lord Blair.
"Well," said Ambrose slowly, "you are awkwardly placed, you see. I imagined from all you have told me that you and the earl do not get on very well together as it is."
"You are right, we don't," admitted Lord Blair shortly.
"Just so. You have led—well, not to put it too plainly—you have been engaged in that branch of agriculture which is called sowing wild oats for a considerable period, and with a great deal of energy. You have had, I believe, rather a large sum of money from the earl?"
"Yes, I have," admitted Blair with a sigh and a frown.
"Not a penny of which he would regret, if you would only oblige him by marrying the woman he has chosen for you."
"Violet Graham?"