“Virginia has a mind like a cathedral,” said her father, gay Lord Carnal of the Gardenia.
“Of course every cathedral has its gargoyles,” added my Lord Carnal wistfully.
Lord Carnal was the ninth baron. It will be remembered by students of Court history that the first Lord Carnal[D] was so created by the exceeding love of that charming Stuart king who, however, later again lost his head about his Grace of Buckingham—the more justly, Puritans have said, to be deprived of it by Oliver Cromwell. Since when the Carnals have come to be known for many things, not the least among which is their quality of sociability and their talent for longevity. “No Carnal ever dies—but, my God, how well they live!” some one is reported to have said sometime. And of the baron of the day, whose portrait by Gainsborough is one of the treasures of Carnal Towers in Hampshire, Lord George Hell found breath to exclaim: “There’s no fight but a Carnal’s in it, no bed but a Carnal’s on it, no table but a Carnal’s under it—no Carnal has ever been seen alone, sir!”
The ninth baron, who never said a careless thing and never condemned a correct one, looked not at all likely to break the record of the previous eight’s longevity. There was only one day in the year when Lord Carnal did not wear a gardenia, and that was on Alexandra Rose Day, when he wore a carnation.
That and Virginia are the only remarkable things the ninth baron ever did.
CHAPTER IV
1
Late in the afternoon of the day following the meeting in the little lane, as Ivor sat reading over the fire in the sitting-room, Turner announced: “Lady Tarlyon, sir.” And there was a note akin to surprise in Turner’s voice.
“’E seemed pleased enough!” Turner said to Mrs. Hope in the kitchen.
“And I should think so indeed!” cried Mrs. Hope indignantly. “After all this time alone....”