“Yes, the Dutchman comes out in him, and he has droll similitudes, very curious in one who never saw his father, nor any but his Underwood relations.”
“So much the better for him perhaps; I have, and ought to have, great faith in uncles’ breeding. I am glad to meet Sir Ferdinand Travis Underwood. I have often come across him about London good works.”
“Yes, he is an excellent man.”
“Not wholly English is he, judging by the depth of colour in those eyes?”
“No; his mother was a Mexican, partly Indian. We used to call him the Cacique;” and Geraldine had the pleasure of telling his story to an earnest listener, but interruption came in the shape of Sir Ferdinand himself who announced that he had hired a steam-yacht wherein to view the regatta, and begged Lord Rotherwood to join the party.
This was impossible, as the Marquis was due at an agricultural dinner at Clarebridge, but in return, in the openness of his heart, he invited the Travis Underwoods to their dinner that evening at the hotel, where the Merrifields and the Underwoods were already engaged, little boys and all.
“Thank you, my lord, but we are too large a party. We have three Vanderkist girls with us, and Anna and her brother are to join them to be with their sister.”
“Never mind, never mind. The great hall will have room for all.”
Still Fernan demurred, knowing that Marilda had ordered dinner at the Quay Hotel, and that even liberal payment would not atone for missing the feasting of the millionaires; so the matter was compounded by his promise to bring all his party, who were not ready for bed, up to spend the evening.
And Geraldine perceived from Lady Rotherwood’s ceremonious politeness that she did not like it at all, though she never said so even to Lady Merrifield.