‘State the deduction, if you please, my lady.’
‘She is not of ‘a totally inferior family.’
‘She had a father famous over England as the Old Buccaneer, and is a diligent reader of his book of MAXIMS FOR MEN.’
‘Dear me! Then Kirby—Captain Kirby! I remember. That’s her origin, is it?’ the great lady cried, illumined. ‘My mother used to talk of the Cressett scandal. Old Lady Arpington, too. At any rate, it ended in their union—the formalities were properly respected, as soon as they could be.’
‘I am unaware.’
‘I detest such a tone of speaking. Speaking as you do now—married to the daughter? You are not yourself, Lord Fleetwood.’
‘Quite, ma’am, let me assure you. Otherwise the Kirby-Cressetts would be dictating to me from the muzzle of one of the old rapscallion’s Maxims. They will learn that I am myself.’
‘You don’t improve as you proceed. I tell you this, you’ll not have me for a friend. You have your troops of satellites; but take it as equal to a prophecy, you won’t have London with you; and you’ll hear of Lord Fleetwood and his Whitechapel Countess till your ears ache.’
The preluding box on them reddened him.
‘She will have the offer of Esslemont.’