“It was very pleasant. I am very fond of his lordship. But—I am weary of travel, and he is a nomad. I am an American, too, and prefer to settle down for a while in my native country,” Reed Raymond rejoined eagerly, in his anxiety for favorable consideration.
In his keen remorse for the evil he had wrought in madness, in his longing to expiate it, in so far as he could, by devotion to his victim, Ray Dering had decided on this step, and nothing could turn him aside from what he believed his duty.
By such disguise as the change of his name by a slight transposition, the shaving off of his luxuriant dark hair, and the adoption of eyeglasses, he felt himself safe from recognition by former friends, and his winning manners at once secured him the boon he craved.
CHAPTER XXVII.
TO REMEMBER A LITTLE WHILE.
Mrs. Hill-Dixon, the famous society leader of New York, was so proud of her titled cousin, Lord Werter, that she fastened him by metaphorical chains to her triumphal car, and dragged her cynical victim whithersoever she would.
It had been a little different in past days, when Dallas Bain paid several visits to America.
Then he was only the earl’s younger son, destined for the army.
But when his elder and only brother was drowned in crossing the Channel last year, and Dallas Bain succeeded to the title of Lord Werter, and stood in direct succession to the earldom, oh, that was quite another thing—yes, indeed.
Dallas must be fêted and lionized now, although he said frankly that it went against the grain with him.
He might have told her as frankly that his good looks had won enough adulation from women already, and that he did not care for the surfeit he would have now with his title and prospects added, but he did not wish to seem conceited. It was easier to give her her way for a few days, then to slip away when he grew too weary of the passing show.