"Exactly; Violet Graham," assented Austin Ambrose, knocking the ash off his cigarette and keeping his eyes fixed upon it. "And that, I take it, you don't care to do?"
"You know I don't. And Violet doesn't either. Why, you yourself advised me to release her, you know that she doesn't care a brass farthing for me!" exclaimed Blair, pacing to and fro.
"Oh, as to knowing, I don't go so far as that. You asked me for my opinion, and I gave it to you. I don't think she cares for you. I don't think Miss Graham is the kind of woman to care very much for any one."
"Very well, then, how the deuce could I marry her?" said Blair. "But what's the use of talking about that? Whatever I might have done before I saw Margaret, I certainly couldn't marry any one but her now, not to save a dukedom!"
"All right," assented Austin Ambrose, without permitting the slightest expression of the thrill of satisfaction that ran through him. "I quite understand, and I must say I think you are acting wisely. The man who marries one girl while he loves another is worse than wicked—he is foolish. But, all the same, the earl remains disappointed and displeased. Do you think, Blair, that his disappointment and displeasure would be lessened if you were to go to him and say, 'I can't marry Violet Graham, the woman you have chosen for me, and whose money would set me straight; but behold the girl I intend to make my wife and the future Countess of Ferrers!—she is your housekeeper's niece!'"
"Grand-daughter," said Blair. "And what if she is? I tell you, Austin, Margaret is a lady, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet!"
"I dare say. I am sure she is, if you say so. You are a very good judge. But, my dear Blair, you can't expect everybody to see her with your eyes, especially an old man who has outlived the age of romance! Miss Margaret, with all her beauty, and grace, and refinement, will be his housekeeper's granddaughter—and nothing more to him. He will, to put it plainly, be very mad, my dear Blair."
"Well!" said Blair, with the Leyton frown on his handsome face, and the firm look about his lips which when seen by his friends was understood by them to mean that he had made up his mind—"what then?"
Austin Ambrose raised his eyebrows and looked just over Blair's head with a smile.
"What then? Well, you ought to know better than I whether you can afford to quarrel right out with your uncle, the great earl."