“No one would credit it, I assure you. You carry your wine very well.”
“You speak as one with experience in these matters,” said Sir Richard.
“My father was used to say that it was most important to see how a man behaved when in his cups. My cousin becomes excessively silly.”
“You know,” said Sir Richard, knitting his brows, “the more I hear of this cousin of yours the more I feel you should not be allowed to marry him. Where are we now?”
“Piccadilly, I think,” replied Miss Creed.
“Good! I live in St James’s Square. Why do they want you to marry your cousin?”
“Because,” said Miss Creed mournfully, “I am cursed with a large fortune!”
Sir Richard halted in the middle of the road. “Cursed with a large fortune?” he repeated.
“Yes, indeed. You see, my father had no other children, and I believe I am most fabulously wealthy, besides having a house in Somerset, which they won’t let me live in. When he died I had to live with Aunt Almeria. I was only twelve years old, you see. And now she is persecuting me to marry my cousin Frederick. So I ran away.”
“The man with a face like a fish?”