When the ladies had been escorted to the waiting barouche, George did not at once set out for his club, but accompanied his brother-in-law back into the house. He preserved a sympathetic silence until they were out of ear-shot of the servants, but caught Sir Richard’s eye then, in a very pregnant look, and uttered the one word: “Women!”
“Quite so,” said Sir Richard.
“Do you know what I’d do if I were you, my boy?”
“Yes,” said Sir Richard.
George was disconcerted. “Damn it, you can’t know!”
“You would do precisely what I shall do.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh—offer for Melissa Brandon, of course,” said Sir Richard.
“Well, I wouldn’t,” said George positively. “I wouldn’t marry Melissa Brandon for fifty sisters! I’d find a cosier armful, ’pon my soul I would!”
“The cosiest armful of my acquaintance was never so cosy as when she wanted to see my purse-strings untied,” said Sir Richard cynically.