He then led his son into the club, found a quiet corner in the morning-room, and bade him unburden his soul. He listened with rapt appreciation to Freddy’s account of his ordeal, expressing himself so properly that Freddy was disappointed to find that he did not feel that it lay within his province to expose the several abuses discovered by his heir. When he further disclosed, apologetically, that the question of the acquisition by the nation of the Elgin Marbles was to come up before both Houses that very session, Freddy was shocked and incredulous, and for several minutes forgot the real purpose of this interview. It was not until he had been soothed by a glass of very dry sherry that he remembered it, and then he said, without the smallest preamble: “You know the Chevalier d’Evron, sir?”
“I have not that pleasure,” responded Lord Legerwood.
“Thought as much,” nodded Freddy. “It don’t prove anything, of course, because he’s a young man, and I daresay you might not know him. Ever hear of the family?”
“No.”
“Smoky,” said Freddy gloomily.
Lord Legerwood presently interrupted his meditations. “Who is this gentleman, Freddy?”
“Cousin of Kit’s. She likes him. Mended a doll for her once, or some such stuff. Claud chopped its head off. Sort of thing he would do, come to think of it.”
“Am I to infer that you don’t share Kitty’s liking for the Chevalier?”
“Wouldn’t say that,” replied Freddy, rubbing his nose. “Very pleasant fellow. But you know how it is: can’t be on the town without learning to know a flat from a leg!”
“I am happy to hear you say so. Tell me more of this— leg?”