‘I thought we might have had a game together this evening,’ said Leonard, seating himself. ‘What was the good of burning it? Besides, it was mine. Oh, mother’—and his handsome face flushed with a sudden fresh eagerness—‘you never saw such a run of luck as I had last night! I staked three times on thirteen, and won twice!’
‘On thirteen! Good gracious,’ cried the Princess, ‘it is madness, Leonard! No wonder your housemaster came in and discovered you. Dear me, I remember horrifying your poor foolish father so much at Monte Carlo by backing single numbers. He had a system. Thank Heaven, you did not get caught playing on a system! The disgrace would have been double. I am spared that.’
Sophia pulled herself up sharp, for she was aware that her instinct had taken the reins from the serious spirit with which she had intended to handle Leonard. The little homily she had prepared had merged into the never-ending discussion on the subject of number thirteen.
‘But I am very much shocked and distressed at all this, Leonard,’ she went on. ‘You have ruined and cut short your school career, and disgraced your name.’
Leonard’s eyes began to twinkle.
‘How about Madame Tussaud’s?’ he asked. ‘I am not the first.’
‘That is beside the point,’ said Sophia, and when the boy laughed outright: ‘At any rate, it is no good talking of that. Oh, but it was very funny! Well, Leonard, I do not mean to send you to the other public school—what is it called?—Harrow. Also, I do not intend you to come and live idly at Rhodopé.’
‘No, that would be rather too slow after England,’ remarked Leonard.
‘Well, what do you want to do? Can’t you suggest anything?’ asked the Princess, with some impatience.
‘I should like to stay in England, or travel, perhaps. Yes; why shouldn’t I travel?’