“This brotherly devotion is most affecting,” remarked Lord Legerwood. “May we know why it has so suddenly attacked you?”
“It ain’t anything of the sort, sir!” said Freddy, justly indignant. “Told you I’d hit on something! Came to me with the cheesecakes!”
“What a tribute to the cook!” said his father.
He looked at Freddy with an expression of patient resignation; but Miss Charing, who had been vainly trying, ever since the news of the epidemic raging in the house had been broken to her, to think of an alternative to returning to Arnside on the morrow, said anxiously: “Is it about me, Freddy?”
“Of course it is. Famous good notion! Meg don’t want to stay with old Lady Buckhaven, don’t want Cousin Amelia to keep her company, can’t have Fanny, because she’s got the measles—better have you!”
Lord Legerwood, in the act of raising his claret-glass to his lips, lowered it again, and regarded his son almost with awe. “These unsuspected depths, Frederick—! I have wronged you!”
“Oh, I don’t know that, sir!” Freddy said modestly. “I ain’t clever, like Charlie, but I ain’t such a sapskull as you think!”
“I have always known you could not be, my dear boy.”
“Kitty to stay with Meg!” Lady Legerwood said, considering it dubiously. “I must say—But would it answer? I am sure Lady Buckhaven wishes her to have some older female with her, and I own—”
“No need to tell her Kit’s age, ma’am. Never leaves Gloucestershire, so she ain’t likely to find out. Besides, couldn’t kick up a dust! Affianced wife—can’t stay here, because of the measles, stays with m’sister instead. Quite the thing!”