People soon began to talk, and generally designated him the Earl’s chief rival, but neither Gwendoline nor Lawrence paid any attention, only amusing themselves with the Earl’s discomfiture. Mrs Carew was rather set upon the coronet, however, and endeavoured to enlist Lawrence upon her side. The topic was brought up in the drawing-room one afternoon about a month after he arrived, and just in the middle of it Gwen herself burst into the room.
“He is an extremely nice man, and it is such an excellent position,” her mother was saying, and then, she stopped short to find her daughter standing before her with laughter in her splendid dark eyes.
“So mamma is making a countess of me off-hand, is she?” she asked, turning to Lawrence, who was looking on with an amused smile from the depths of a big easy-chair.
“We were just considering how a coronet would become you,” he replied.
“Oh! the coronet’s all right,” shrugging her shoulders, “but the man! Heaven preserve me from marrying a woolly lamb with a spring inside, that says ‘Baa-a-a’ when you squeeze it.”
“I didn’t think you had got so far as that,” said Lawrence wickedly.
“Don’t try to be funny,” retorted Gwen; “it doesn’t suit your peculiar style of cleverness. Look here, mother,” turning to Mrs Carew again with the air of a young queen, “don’t you go setting your heart on Selloyd for a son-in-law, because I won’t have him. I won’t have anybody yet. I’m having a glorious time, and I mean to keep on. It’s all rot wanting to tie a girl up her first season. I mean to have three seasons, and then, if no one else will have me, I’ll take Lawrence,” and she flashed a bewitching glance at him.
“Lawrence won’t want a wife who’s been in the lists three seasons,” said her mother.
“Lawrence will do as he’s told,” promptly. “It will be a new experience, and very good for him.”
“And afterward I suppose you’ll allow me the same beneficial course with you,” he remarked.