"And who are they when they're at home?" she asked, dubiously.
"Flies—whose conduct is not above suspicion. Shall I present you with a copy?"
"Rather. As long as you don't expect me to read it.—Hullo! Bob. Going to anything to-night?"
"We're staggering to Daly's, old thing...." With a feeling of mild curiosity I glanced at the boy who had paused by our table on the way out: a clean-cut, good-looking youngster. No outsider, this future seventeenth earl, like the distant cousin.... Yes, one could see where the good fortune came in....
We, too, were going to Daly's, and we all passed out of the restaurant together. I had a word or two with the youngster as we waited for the car: he was keen as mustard on hearing about Africa, and especially Uganda....
"Everybody is tottering out to the country these days, Sir Richard, and 'pon my word, I don't blame 'em..."
"If they can, no more do I. But the head of the family can't go, my dear boy.... That's the drawback to responsibility."
"Do you know Fingarton?" A gleam came into his eyes as he spoke.
"I'm afraid I don't," I answered. "I've never met your father."
"Go and look him up, if you're in those parts," he said, impulsively. "It'll do the dear old governor good.... He's burying himself too much up there, and it's lonely for him.. I've written and written just lately, and I can't get any answer out of him.... I want him to come South—he will for my wedding, of course—but these last few months, if ever I do get a line from him, it's in reply to a letter about three weeks old...."