It was not once or twice, but many times, that Lady Austell had told her son the complete truth in answer to some question of his, and when she had said “fifteen thousand, I believe,” it was only reasonable to expect that the answer would be satisfactory. But Jim always remembered something else, and his memory was terribly good. It was not that he considered twelve thousand a poor sum: he only recalled to his mother’s mind the fact that she had successfully suggested fifteen. And he had not openly stated the fact: he had merely requested her kindly aid with regard to his own marriage settlements, if there were ever to be any. That should have been to her a completely gratifying request; as it was, it left her with the sense of having been found out. The complete correctness of this impression was shown by Austell’s next words.
“I think you have been fearfully brilliant about it,” he said, “and I am sure you have made them all think that you considered fifteen thousand far too much. Do tell me: didn’t you say that you thought it was a great responsibility for so young a couple to be—to be stewards of so much wealth? Lord, how I wish somebody would make me a steward. Come in.”
Somebody had tapped at the door, and to tell the truth Lady Austell was not very sorry to have an interruption, for she had actually used the words that Jim had conjectured in a little talk with Mr. Osborne and his brother in which settlements were very genteelly and distantly alluded to. But there had been a distinct twinkle in Alfred’s eye at this point, and she did not want more cross-examinations. The interruption, therefore, was welcome.
Mrs. Osborne entered, looking hot and pleased. Jim at this moment was looking at a large engraving of Landseer’s “Monarch of the Glen” (part of the No. 1 white boudoir set) in an angle of the room parallel to the door, and she did not at once see him.
“Good morning, Lady Austell,” she said. “I thought I would just step up and see what you would fancy doing this beautiful day. There’s some of the party going to motor over to Pevensey——”
Mrs. Osborne caught sight of Jim, and gave a faint scream.
“And I’m sure if I don’t beg your pardon, Lord Austell,” she said with averted head, “for I never guessed you were here paying a morning visit to your mamma in your bath wrapper. But I thought somebody said ‘Come in,’ for I always tap at every door now, or clear my throat to give warning, with so many lovers about, bless them.”
“Yes, I said ‘Come in,’” said Austell. “Mayn’t I come and talk to you and my mother? I thought my dressing—bath wrapper was rather smart.”
It was rather, being of blue silk, new and unpaid for, and with Mrs. Osborne’s permission he joined them. It had given her quite a turn for a moment to find that she had intruded on an earl in his dressing gown, but she rapidly recovered.
“Why, it’s beautiful,” she said, “and such a figure as Mr. O. is in his old green padded wrapper as hardly comes to his knees! It was the thought of that that gave me such a turn at finding a gentleman in his dressing gown. But I’m sure I needn’t have minded. And what will you be thinking of doing, Lord Austell? It’s Liberty Hall, as Mr. O. and I always tell our guests, and the more they say what they like to do, the better we’re pleased.”