“I think I have,” said Mr. Beaumaris.
She stared at him, but before she could speak her butler had entered the room, staggering under a specimen of the ducal plate which her grace had categorically refused to relinquish to the present Duke, on the twofold score that it was her personal property, and that he shouldn’t have married anyone who gave his mother such a belly-ache as that die-away ninny he had set in her place. This impressive tray Hadleigh set down on the table, casting, as he did so, a very impressive look at Mr. Beaumaris. Mr. Beaumaris nodded his understanding, and rose, and went to pour out the wine. He handed his grandmother a modest half-glass, to which she instantly took exception, demanding to know whether he had the impertinence to suppose that she could not carry her wine.
“I daresay you can drink me under the table,” replied Mr. Beaumaris, “but you know very well it’s extremely bad for your health, and also that you cannot bully me into pandering to your outrageous commands.” He then lifted her disengaged hand to his lips, and said gently: “You are a rude and an overbearing old woman, ma’am, but I hope you may live to be a hundred, for I like you so much better than any other of my relatives!”
“I daresay that’s not saying much,” she remarked, rather pleased by this audacious speech. “Sit down again, and don’t try to hoax me with any of your taradiddles! I can see you’re going to make a fool of yourself, so you needn’t wrap it up in clean linen! You haven’t come here to tell me you’re going to marry that brass-faced lightskirt you had in keeping when I last saw you?”
“I have not!” said Mr. Beaumaris.
“Just as well, for laced mutton being brought into the family is what I won’t put up with! Not that I think you’re fool enough for that.”
“Where do you learn your abominable expressions, ma’am?” demanded Mr. Beaumaris.
“ I don’t belong to your mealy-mouthed generation, thank God! Who is she?”
“If I did not know from bitter experience, ma’am, that nothing occurs in London but what you are instantly aware of it, I should say that you had never heard of her. She is—or at any rate, she says she is—the latest heiress.”
“Oh! Do you mean the chit that that silly Bridlington woman, has staying with her? I’m told she’s a beauty.”