Denzil helped himself to a Russian salad, and went on leisurely. "He fortunately married Lady Mary de la Paule—who was a saint, and so John seems to have righted, and takes after her. She died quite early, she had had enough of Sir James, I expect, he had gambled away everything he could lay hands upon. Poor John was brought up with a tutor at home, for some reason—hard luck on a man. He was only about thirteen when she died and at seventeen went straight into the city. He was determined to make a fortune, it has always been said, and redeem the mortgages on Ardayre—very splendid of him, wasn't it?"
"Yes—well all this is not out of the ordinary line—what comes next?"
Denzil laughed—he was not a good raconteur.
"The poor lady was no sooner dead than the old boy married a Bulgarian snake charmer, whom he had picked up in Constantinople! You may well smile"—for Verisschenzko had raised his eyebrows in a whimsical way—this did sound such a highly coloured incident!
"It was an unusual sort of thing to do, I admit, but the tale grows more lurid still, when I tell you that five months after the wedding she produced a son by the Lord knows who, one of her own tribe probably, and old Sir James was so infatuated with her that he never protested, and presently when he and John quarrelled like hell he pretended the little brute was his own child—just to spite John."
Verisschenzko's Calmuck eyes narrowed.
"And does this result of the fusion of snake charmers figure in the family history? I believe I have met him—his name is Ferdinand, is it not, and he is, or was, in some business in Constantinople?"
"That is the creature—he was brought up at Ardayre as though he were the heir, and poor John turned out of things. He came to Eton three years before I left, but even there they could not turn him into the outside semblance of a gentleman. I loathed the little toad, and he loathed me—and the sickening part of the thing is that if John does not have a son, by the English law of entail Ferdinand comes into Ardayre, and will be the head of the family. Old Sir James died about five years ago, always protesting this bastard was his own child, though every one knew it was a lie. However, by that time John had made enough in the city to redeem Ardayre twice over. He had tremendous luck after the South African War, so he came into possession and lives there now in great state—I do really hope that he will have a son."
"You, too, have the instinct of the family, then—this pride in it—since it cannot benefit you either way."
"I believe it is born in us, and though I have never seen Ardayre, I should hate this mongrel to have it. I was brought up with a tremendous reverence for it, even as a second cousin."