“Why did you set up your back like that, Ronnie?” said Daddy to him in the evening. “Man is a beast, but girl is good form.”
“I have not a word to say against her,” replied Hurstmanceaux. “But as it is impossible to know her without knowing her father, I relinquish the pleasure of doing so.”
“Buckram!” said Daddy. “’Tisn’t worn nowadays. Even soldiers don’t have stocks any longer.”
“It is not buckram. It is common decency. That infernal cad is living in Gerald’s house.”
“Well, that is Gerald’s fault, I suppose, for selling it. You are wrong, Ronnie—quite wrong. Miss Massarene is well-bred enough to get her father accepted. In point of fact he is accepted; he goes everywhere.”
“She is very distinguished-looking. But I don’t know what that has to do with it,” said Hurstmanceaux in his stiffest and crossest manner. “As for your seeing him anywhere, you won’t see him at Faldon. I wish Mrs. Raby had told me of her intentions; I should not have come here. I have avoided these people everywhere for two years.”
“People don’t send a list of their guests on approval except to Royalty. They’d never fill their houses if they did. Miss Massarene knows your sentiments, don’t she? Her back was up as well as yours.”
“Certainly she knows them. I have never made a secret of them. Who could suppose that at Bedlowes of all places one would come across that cad?”
Daddy yawned and shut his eyes.
“I think you know,” he said drowsily, “that as your sister has run ’em you ought to back ’em. Must back one’s own stable!”