"Not I!" said Sir Tancred. "I'm not going to interfere. I have enough to do to keep Tinker out of mischief without acting as dry-nurse to the children of Uncle Bumpkin."
"But hang it all, the man's a regular bad hat!" said Lord Crosland. "He was advised to resign from the Bridge Club, and I happen to know that he is actually wanted in London about a cheque."
"And in Paris, Berlin, Petersburg, Vienna, and Buda-Pesth. Men who speak French as well as he does always are," said Sir Tancred. "Which reminds me, Tinker, your accent is getting too good. The honest English tongue was never made to speak French like a Frenchman. Let up on it a little."
"Yes, sir," said Hildebrand Anne.
"But you ought to do something, don't you know?" said Lord Crosland. "The child's very pretty, and nice, and sweet, and all that. It would be no end of a shame if she came to grief with that bounder Courtnay."
"I won't stir a finger," said Sir Tancred firmly, "for two reasons. One, Bumpkin Wigram helped my stepmother spoil my early life; two, if this bounder Courtnay has got round Bumpkin words would be wasted. Bumpkin is as dense and as obstinate as any clodhopper who ever chawed bacon."
"But she's a pretty child and worth saving," said Lord Crosland. "What do you think, Tinker?"
"I should think she was rather inexperienced," said Hildebrand Anne, with admirable judgment.
"Solomon, va!" said Lord Crosland, clutching the boy's ribs, and drawing from him a sudden yell.
"Well, come along; we have a hard day's work before us," said Sir Tancred; and the two of them rose and strolled off towards the Temple of Fortune.