Lord Southwold laughs savagely.
“To make a mésalliance, and not even to be welcome! By Jove! The fellow ought to be shot. Disgracing both our families in such a manner.”
“You are unfair to him, Lord Southwold,” says Cicely.
“In what way, my dear?”
“You do not attempt to enter into his views, his motives, his principles. His opinions may be somewhat exaggerated, but his loyalty to them is none the less admirable.”
“Oh, you do admit they’re exaggerated?”
“Some of them, yes. At least, in the Age to Come there are things which one cannot wholly accept, but they always err on the side of generosity! And he is always consistent. Mr. Fanshawe may be more politic, but he is far less to be respected. You blame the refusal of this fortune. But you must admit it shows his consistency.”
“Only fools are consistent,” says Southwold, with unspeakable contempt.
“Really,” cries Lady Southwold, “one would think you were in love with Wilfrid to hear you, Cicely.”
Cicely colours a little.