Lord Valleys, having finished what seemed necessary, arose.
“Any message to your mother, Gertrude?”
“No, I wrote last night.”
“Tell Miltoun to keep—an eye on that Mr. Courtier. I heard him speak one day—he's rather good.”
Lady Valleys, who had not yet sat down, accompanied her husband to the door.
“By the way, I've told Mother about this woman, Geoff.”
“Was it necessary?”
“Well, I think so; I'm uneasy—after all, Mother has some influence with Miltoun.”
Lord Valleys shrugged his shoulders, and slightly squeezing his wife's arm, went out.
Though himself vaguely uneasy on that very subject, he was a man who did not go to meet disturbance. He had the nerves which seem to be no nerves at all—especially found in those of his class who have much to do with horses. He temperamentally regarded the evil of the day as quite sufficient to it. Moreover, his eldest son was a riddle that he had long given up, so far as women were concerned.