“What! Son of old Norris!”
“Yes, sir,” said the modest George. But there was a note in the voice of my lord that at once enabled George Norris to assume perfect mastery over himself. “And my father married Miss Hook, the maid to your mother the Duchess.” With an air mildly ironical the young man turned as he spoke to the girl at his side.
Lady Elfreda was biting her lip sharply. She had turned rather pale.
Another pin might have been heard to fall on the hall parquet and then George Norris said very quietly and calmly: “I should like you to understand, sir, that when I asked Lady Elfreda to marry me I was under the impression that she was a governess without a situation, without money, without friends.”
Lord Carabbas nodded truculently. He was wise, no doubt, not to trust himself with words.
“And, of course, you will understand, also, that when Lady Elfreda did me the honor to accept my offer she had no idea that I was the only son of her grandfather’s late head butler and her grandmother’s second—I believe it was second—maid.”
The young man ended this speech with a slight bow for the benefit of Lady Elfreda. And then quite suddenly he exploded in laughter. Lady Elfreda had the wit to respond with a tempered outburst of her own. But it lacked spontaneity. For all her power of will she was obviously laughing now on the wrong side of her mouth. As for Lord Carabbas, sore, bewildered, seeking to fix a quarrel, he saw a new affront in the method by which this son of old Norris chose to handle a matter quite without precedent.
“I’m hanged if I can see anything to laugh at,” he said.
Again Lord Carabbas stood looking from one to the other of the culprits as if he would dearly like to commit murder. But at this grim moment he was saved from any rash or overt act by the composure of his daughter and the manly commonsense of this son of old Norris.
“I suppose, sir, I ought to apologize,” he said matter-of-factly, “for landing you in this hocus. But, of course, I hadn’t the least idea——”