"I'm sure I shall!" cried Dick, with the laugh of a boy. "Wendover Park feels like Paradise to me."
"I know the place well," said the peer. "My Cousin Guy, as you may have heard, used to live here."
"Yes, I have heard of it, and I'm afraid you must feel rather bitterly towards me as a consequence."
"Not at all," replied Huntingford. "Of course, it is all ancient history now. We did feel cut up about it at the time, but—but I congratulate you on possessing such a fine old place."
"But for the fact that I so love it already," said Dick, "I should wish my uncle had secured some other place; but, for the life of me, I can't. It's too lovely. Anyhow, I'll try to be not an unworthy successor of Sir Guy. I hope you'll help me, Lord Huntingford, and you, Lady Huntingford and Lady Blanche. You see, I'm handicapped. I'm a bachelor, and I'm entirely ignorant of my duties. I shall look to you for help."
This was sound policy on Dick's part. Lord Huntingford was a vain man, and loved to patronise.
"You began all right," laughed Lady Blanche. "You helped a poor, forlorn, helpless motorist out of a difficulty."
"You recognise me, then?"
"Of course I do. I positively envied the way you tackled that engine of mine and put it right. Of course, I felt angry when I knew who you were. No, no, there was nothing personal about it. I only hated the thought that anyone other than a Wendover should live here. A family feeling, you know."
"All that Wendover Park has is yours to command!" and Dick looked very earnest as he spoke.