"Oh, blast Miss Spennymoor!" said Cynthia. "And if it's that old frock of yours, I won't wear it, Mummy!"
Mrs. Haddington poured out a cup of coffee, added sugar, and held it out. "Sit up, and drink this!" she said. "Come, childie! To please me!"
Cynthia hoisted herself up reluctantly. "Oh, all right! Where's the milk?"
"You don't want milk," replied Mrs. Haddington, a trifle grimly. "What did you drink last night, Cynthia?"
"Champagne, of course. Lance took me to -"
"Cynthia, I told you not to go out with him, and now I see how right I was! You had far too much to drink, my darling. That shows me what sort of a young man he is! It isn't you I blame, but you know, pet, nothing puts the right kind of man off more quickly than a girl who takes too much to drink! Besides, if people like the Petworths ever saw you - well, you may take it from me that you wouldn't be invited to their parties any more! I want you to drop Lance. Titles aren't everything, and even if they were -"
Cynthia hunched a shoulder. "Good God, as though I cared two hoots about his silly title! I happen to like him! He isn't always trying to improve me - except about his idiotic Communism, of course, and I can always shut him up about that! He'd do simply anything to please me! Why, he even took me to Frinton's last night, and he isn't a member!" She giggled suddenly. "Really, I do think it was lamb-like of him, Mummy, because he shied off it badly, when I said I wanted to go there! He carried it off with a superbly high hand! And those lethal Kenelm Guisboroughs were there, with a stuffy party, and Lance made Kenelm OK him. Kenelm loathed having to do it, too! It was screamingly funny! Lance and I laughed for hours!"
This ingenuous exposition of what afforded her cherished daughter amusement appeared to daunt Mrs. Haddington. She said nothing; so Cynthia added: "If you can get Lance to forget the starving millions, and you easily can, he's too sweet for words! Of course, he isn't half as good-looking as Timothy, but Timothy wouldn't have the guts to muscle into a club he didn't belong to, and, anyway, it isn't me Timothy's after!"
Mrs. Haddington was a hardheaded woman, but she had her blind spot. It was inconceivable to her that any man, beholding her daughter, could look twice at any other female. She said sharply: "Nonsense! If he isn't after you, why does he come here? You seem to forget that I found you practically in his arms yesterday afternoon!"
"Yes, wasn't it dear and cherishing of him?" agreed Cynthia, nibbling a slice of thin toast. "Darling Mummy, you're too dim! Timothy's mad cats on Beulah Birtley! I don't say I couldn't have had him, if I'd wanted him, because honestly I do think I could cut the Birtley girl out, don't you? - but I'm practically certain Lance is far more my type!"