Barbara stood on the threshold, staring at them. "What the devil - ? Grandmama, how the deuce do you come to be here?"
The Duke, a tall man with grizzled hair and fiery dark eyes, said: "Don't talk to your grandmother like that! What's this damnable story I hear about that worthless brother of yours?"
Barbara bent to kiss her grandmother, a rather stout lady, with a straight back, and an air of unshakable imperturbability: "Dear love! Did you come for my sake?"
"No, I came because your grandfather would do so. But this is very surprising, this news of George's marriage. Tell me, shall I like his wife?"
"You'll have nothing to do with her!" snapped his Grace. "Upon my word, I'm singularly blessed in my grandchildren! One is such a miserable poltroon that he takes to his heels the instant he hears a gun fired; another makes herself the talk of the town; and a third marries a damned Cit's daughter. You may as well tell me what folly Harry has committed, and be done with it. I wash my hands of the pack of you! There is no understanding how I came to have such a set of grandchildren."
"Vidal's behaviour is certainly very bad," agreed the Duchess. "But I find nothing remarkable about George's and Bab's conduct, Dominic. Only I'm sorry George should have married in such a hole-and-corner fashion. It will make it very awkward for his wife. You have not told me if I shall like her, Bab."
"You will think her very dull, I daresay."
"You will not receive her at all!" stated his Grace.
The Duchess replied calmly: "Your mother received me, Dominic."
"Mary!"