Lucio laughed heartily, and seated himself near her—I followed his example; the old Earl still kept his position, legs a-straddle, on the hearth-rug, and beamed benevolence upon us all. Certainly Diana Chesney was a captivating creature; one of those surface-clever American women who distinctly divert men’s minds without in the least rousing their passions.
“So you’re the famous Mr Tempest?” she said, surveying me critically—“Why, it’s simply splendid for you isn’t it? I always say it’s no use having a heap of money unless you’re young,—if you’re old, you only want it to fill your doctor’s pockets while he tries to mend your poor tuckered-out constitution. I once knew an old lady who was left a legacy of a hundred thousand pounds when she was ninety-five. Poor old dear, she cried over it. She just had sense enough to understand what a good time she couldn’t have. She lived in bed, and her only luxury was a halfpenny bun dipped in milk for her tea. It was all she cared for.”
“A hundred thousand pounds would go a long way in buns!” I said smiling.
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“Wouldn’t it just!” and the fair Diana laughed—“But I guess you’ll want something a little more substantial for your cash Mr Tempest! A fortune in the prime of life is worth having. I suppose you’re one of the richest men about just now, aren’t you?”
She put the question in a perfectly naïve frank manner and seemed to be unconscious of any undue inquisitiveness in it.
“I may be one of the richest,”—I replied, and as I spoke the thought flashed suddenly across me how recently I had been one of the poorest!—“But my friend here, the prince, is far richer than I.”
“Is that so!” and she stared straight at Lucio, who met her gaze with an indulgent, half satirical smile—“Well now! I guess Pa’s no better than a sort of pauper after all! Why, you must have the world at your feet!”
“Pretty much so,”—replied Lucio composedly—“But then, my dear Miss Chesney, the world is so very easily brought to one’s feet. Surely you know that?”
And he emphasized the words by an expressive look of his fine eyes.
“I guess you mean compliments,”—she replied unconcernedly—“I don’t