“I daresay, but if my uncle means to bestow Sophy upon him he is not the man I take him for! He is said to be a gazetted fortune hunter, and is, besides, a gamester, with more debts than expectations, and such libertine propensities as scarcely render him a desirable catch in the marriage mart!”
“Oh dear!” said Lady Ombersley, dismayed. She wondered whether she ought to tell her son that his cousin had gone out driving with Sir Vincent only a day earlier and decided that no purpose could be served in dwelling on what was past. “Perhaps I should drop a hint in Sophy’s ear.”
“I doubt of its being well received, ma’am. Eugenia has already spoken with her on this subject. All that my cousin saw fit to reply was that she was quite up to snuff and would engage not to allow herself to be seduced by Sir Vincent, or anyone else.”
“Oh, dear,” said Lady Ombersley again. “She really should not say such things!”
“Just so, ma’am!”
“But, though I do not wish to offend you, Charles, I cannot help feeling that perhaps it was not quite wise of Eugenia to have spoken to her on such a subject. You know, my dear, she is not in any way related to Sophy!”
“Only Eugenia’s strong sense of duty,” he said stiffly, “and, I may add, Mama, her earnest desire to spare you anxiety, induced her to undertake a task which she felt to be excessively unpleasant.”
“It is very kind of her, I am sure,” said his mother in a depressed voice.
“Where is my cousin?” he asked abruptly.
She brightened, for to this question she was able to return an unexceptionable answer. “She has gone for a drive in the barouche with Cecilia and your brother.”