Lord Maxwell turned and stared.
"Why—why, what is the matter with you, Aldous? Offended?
Well—well—There—I am an old fool!"
And, walking up to his grandson, he laid an affectionate and rather shaking hand on the younger's shoulder.
"You have a great charge upon you, Aldous—a charge for the future. It has upset me—I shall be calmer to-morrow. But as to any quarrel between us! Are you a youth, or am I a three-tailed bashaw? As to money, you know, I care nothing. But it goes against me, my boy, it goes against me, that your wife should bring such a story as that with her into this house!"
"I understand," said Aldous, wincing. "But you must see her, grandfather. Only, let me say it again—don't for one moment take it for granted that she will marry me. I never saw any one so free, so unspoilt, so unconventional."
His eyes glowed with the pleasure of remembering her looks, her tones.
Lord Maxwell withdrew his hand and shook his head slowly.
"You have a great deal to offer. No woman, unless she were either foolish or totally unexperienced, could overlook that. Is she about twenty?"
"About twenty."
Lord Maxwell waited a moment, then, bending over the fire, shrugged his shoulders in mock despair.