"Perhaps I do," said Joseph, with a wise nod. "And I'm relying on you to bring your influence to bear on the dear old fellow."
"What?" asked Valerie, turning her large eyes upon him in astonishment.
He pressed her arm slightly. "Ah, you're not going to tell me that you haven't got any! No, no, that won't do!"
"But what on earth do you expect me to do?" she demanded.
"Don't let him annoy his uncle," he said. "Try to get him to behave sensibly! After all, though I suppose I'm the last person to preach wisdom, as this world knows it (for I'm afraid I've never had a scrap of it my whole life long!), it would be silly, wouldn't it, to throw away all this just out of perversity?"
A wave of his hand indicated their surroundings. Valerie's eyes brightened. "Oh, Mr. Herriard, is he really going to leave everything to Stephen?"
"You mustn't ask me that, my dear," Joseph replied. "I've done my best, that's all I can say, and now it depends on Stephen, and on you, too."
"Yes, but I don't believe Mr. Herriard likes me much," objected Valerie. "It's funny, because generally I go over big with old men. I don't know why, I'm sure."
"Look in your mirror!" responded Joseph gallantly. "I'm afraid poor Nat is a bit of a misogynist. You mustn't mind that. Just keep that young man of yours in order, that's all I ask."
"Well, I'll try," said Valerie. "Not that he's likely to pay any attention to me, because he never does."