The Duke nodded, but his portentous eyes asked Sarah not to claim one moment more of his time than the circumstances rendered absolutely necessary.
“Aunt Charlotte feels very strongly that it will be wise for you to give your consent.”
“Why?” The Duke yawned, but the look in his face was not of the kind that goes with mere boredom. “Any specific ground for the suggestion?” He scanned Sarah narrowly, with heavily-lidded eyes.
“On general grounds only, I believe.”
The Duke was more than a little relieved, but he was content to express the fact by transferring his gaze to the book-rest in front of him.
“She thinks it will be in the interests of everyone to make the best of a most tiresome and humiliating business. And, after all, he is certain to be Prime Minister within the next ten years.”
“Who tells you that?”
“Last night at dinner I met Harry Truscott, and that’s his prediction. He says Sir Dugald Maclean is the big serpent that swallows all the little serpents.”
“Uncommonly true!” His Grace made a wry mouth. “Still, that’s hardly a reason why we should receive the reptile here.”
“No, of course. I quite agree. But Aunt Charlotte thinks there is nothing to gain by standing out. Muriel has quite made up her foolish mind. So the dignified thing seems to be to make the best of a miserable business.”