“Then I will say that I think it is for Lord Worth to exert his authority. He alone has the right.”
“It was Lord Worth who put Perry’s name up for Watier’s,” said Judith bitterly. “I was glad at first, but I did not know that it was all gaming there. It was he who took him to that horrid tavern they call Cribb’s Parlour, where he meets all the prizefighters he is for ever talking about.”
Mr. Taverner was silent for a moment. He said at length: “I did not know. Yet he could hardly be blamed: it is his own world, and the one Perry was all eagerness to enter. Lord Worth is himself a gamester, a very notable Corinthian. He is of the Carlton House set. It may be that he is not concerning himself very closely with Perry’s doings. Speak to him, Judith: he must attend to you.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked, frowning.
“Pardon me, my dear cousin, it has seemed to me sometimes that his lordship betrays a certain partiality—I will say no more.”
“Oh no!” she said, with strong revulsion. “You are mistaken. Such a notion is unthinkable.”
He made a movement as though he would have taken her hand, but controlled it, and said with an earnest look: “I am glad.”
“You have something against him?” she said quickly,
“Nothing. If I was afraid—if I disliked the thought that there might be some partiality, you must forgive me. I could not help myself. But I have said too much. Speak to Lord Worth of Perry. Surely he cannot want him to be growing wild!”
She was a good deal stirred by this speech, and by the look that went with it. She was not displeased: she liked him too well; but she wished him to say no more. A declaration seemed to be imminent; she was thankful that he did not make it. She did not know her own heart.