"The Pretender?" Lady Waverton smiled through her powder. "La, now,
Geoffrey's father always had a kindness for the young Prince."
"I vow, ma'am, you take it with a fine spirit," says Mr. Hadley in some surprise.
"You'll find, Mr. Hadley, that such families as ours, the older families, know how to bear themselves in this cause."
Sir John stared at her and puffed the louder, and muttered very audibly,
"Here's a turnabout!"
"Oh, ma'am, to be sure it's a well-born party," Mr. Hadley shrugged. "D'ye give us leave to remain and see that these fellows show no impudence?"
"Oh, sir, you are very obliging," says my lady superciliously.
Mr. Hadley bowed, and withdrew to the recess of a window with Sir John
following. "Here's a queer thing, Charles. Did ever you know Master
Geoffrey was a Jacobite?" Mr. Hadley shook his head. "Nor this Colonel
Boyce neither?"
"I never saw a Jacobite in so good a coat, and I never thought Geoffrey
would risk his coat for any king. And thirdly and lastly, I never knew
Whitehall put itself out in these days whether a man was Jacobite or no.
Why, damme, they be all half Jacobites themselves, from the Queen down."
"Aye, aye," says Sir John sagely. "A devilish queer thing indeed."
And on that came Alison and Harry—Alison rosy and smiling, Harry a pale and deliberate appendage. "Dear Lady Waverton, let me present my husband."