“Certainly not often,” he answered, “and oftener than not, never. If you had told me beforehand you wished to hear my history, I should have pruned my family tree into a more presentable shape. But if you will kindly tell me as I go along which of my relatives you disapprove of, and who you would like to be introduced, I shall arrange the plot to suit you.”
“I only wish to hear the true story, Mr Hamilton.”
“Fortescue,” he corrected. “I certainly prefer to be called by one name at a time, but never by the same twice running.”
He smiled so agreeably as he said this that Lady Alicia, though puzzled and a little hurt, could not refrain from smiling back.
“Let me hear the rest,” she said.
“It is no truer than the first part, but quite as entertaining. So, if you like, I shall endeavour to recall the series of painful episodes that brought me to Clankwood,” he answered, very seriously.
Lady Alicia settled herself comfortably into one corner of the sofa and prepared to feel affected. But at that moment the portly form of Dr Congleton appeared from the direction of the ballroom with a still more portly dowager on his arm.
“My mother!” exclaimed Lady Alicia, rising quickly to her feet.
“Indeed?” said Mr Beveridge, who still kept his seat. “She certainly looks handsome enough.”
This speech made Lady Alicia blush very becomingly, and the Countess looked at her sharply.