“Fifty years ago,” retorted his uncle, quite unmoved by these insults, “I was only just breeched. This is a very tolerable wine, Ricky. By the way, they tell me young Beverley Brandon’s badly dipped. You’ll be a damned public benefactor if you marry that girl. Better let your lawyer attend to the settlements, though. I’d be willing to lay you a monkey Saar tries to bleed you white. What’s the matter with you, George? Got the toothache?”
“I don’t like it,” said George. “I told Louisa so at the outset, but you know what women are! Myself, I wouldn’t have Melissa Brandon if she were the last woman left single.”
“What, she ain’t the spotty one, surely?” demanded Lucius, concerned.
“No, that’s Sophia.”
“Oh, well, nothing to worry about then! You marry the girl, Ricky: you’ll never have any peace if you don’t. Fill up your glass, George, and we’ll have another toast!”
“What is it this time?” enquired Sir Richard, replenishing the glasses. “Don’t spare me!”
“To a pack of brats in your image, nevvy: here’s to ’em!” grinned his uncle.
Chapter 2
Lord Saar lived in Brook Street with his wife, and his family of two sons and four daughters. Sir Richard Wyndham, driving to his prospective father-in-law’s house twenty-four hours after his interview with his own parent, was fortunate enough to find Saar away from home, and Lady Saar, the butler informed him, on her way to Bath with the Honourable Sophia. He fell instead into the arms of the Honourable Cedric Brandon, a rakish young gentleman of lamentable habits, and a disastrous charm of manner.
“Ricky, my only friend!” cried the Honourable Cedric, dragging Sir Richard into a small saloon at the back of the house. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to offer for Melissa! They say good news don’t kill a man, but I never listen to gossip! M’father says ruin stares us in the face. Lend me the money, dear boy, and I’ll buy myself a pair of colours, and be off to the Peninsula, damme if I won’t! But listen to me, Ricky! Are you listening?” He looked anxiously at Sir Richard, appeared satisfied, and said, wagging a solemn finger: “Don’t do it! There isn’t a fortune big enough to settle our little affairs: take my word for it! Have nothing to do with Beverley! They say Fox gamed away a fortune before he was twenty-one. Give you my word, he was nothing to Bev, nothing at all. Between ourselves, Ricky, the old man has taken to brandy. H’sh! Not a word! Mustn’t tell tales about m’father! But run, Ricky! That’s my advice to you: run!”