“Apparently he feels that his house is forever full of evil company. He says he does not know the half of the people who frequent it, and ascribes this to his being the Regent’s A.D.C.,” Carlyon said, with only a flicker of a smile.
“A delightful reflection upon Prinny! Refreshingly honest, I swear!”
“I am going to bed,” Carlyon said. “An evening spent in Bedlington’s company is the most fatiguing thing I know. I pity Mrs. Cheviot! He is a dead bore!”
“Oh, he still stands by his threat to inflict himself upon her, does he?”
“Yes, and to invite her to return to Brook Street with him while Highnoons is shut up and the servants dismissed.”
“Ha! So that he may search the place at his leisure!” said John, grinning. “Much obliged to him!” He accompanied his brother out into the hall and picked up his bedroom candle. “When have you arranged the funeral? Should I attend?”
“As you wish. I must do so, at all events. It is postponed for two days, Bedlington having affairs that must keep him in town.”
“Deuce take the old fidget!” John growled. “You will be glad to be done with this, Ned, and know Eustace safe underground!”
“I shall certainly be glad to be done with it, and wish I saw my way through it.”
John gripped his elbow, roughly squeezing it. “Ay, it has been the devil of a business. As for seeing your way, I do not wonder you cannot! Here is this widow left on your hands, as I told you before! Well, it serves you right, old fellow!”