“Sir Geoffrey will have no scruple in agreeing to it if you are not against it,” urged Peregrine. “Lady Fairford, too, is all complaisance. There is no objection there.”
The Earl threw him a somewhat scornful but not unkindly glance. “It would surprise me very much if there were,” he said.
“Well, have I your permission to address Miss Fairford?” demanded Peregrine. “It cannot signify to you in the least, after all!”
The Earl did not immediately reply to this. He sat looking rather enigmatically at his ward for some moments, and then opened his snuff-box, and meditatively took a pinch.
Peregrine fidgeted about the room, and at last burst out with: “Hang it, why should you object?”
“I was not aware that I had objected,” said Worth. “In fact, I have little doubt that if you are of the same mind in six months’ time I shall quite willingly give my consent.”
“Six months!” ejaculated Peregrine, dismayed.
“Were you thinking of marrying Miss Fairford at once?” inquired Worth.
“No, but we—I had hoped at least to be betrothed at once.”
“Certainly. Why not?” said the Earl.