"Chrysos Lacy," he roared, "is a sweet, innocent girl—not a bale of fashionable merchandise! Besides," he added in a modified tone, "I was rather taken by—by Mrs. Leeds."
Quarren slowly raised his eyes.
"I was," insisted Westguard sulkily; "and I proved myself an ass by saying so to my aunt. Why in Heaven's name I was idiot enough to go and tell her, I don't know. Perhaps I had a vague idea that she would be so delighted that she'd give me several tons of helpful advice."
"Did she?"
"Did she! She came back at me with Chrysos Lacy, I tell you! And when I merely smiled and attempted to waive away the suggestion, she flew into a passion, called me down, cursed me out—you know her language isn't always in good taste—and then she ordered me to keep away from Mrs. Leeds—as though I ever hung around any woman's skirts! I'm no Squire of Dames. I tell you, Rix, I was mad clear through. So I told her that I'd marry Mrs. Leeds the first chance I got——"
"Don't talk about her that way," remonstrated Quarren pleasantly.
"About who? My aunt?"
"I didn't mean your aunt?"
"Oh. About Mrs. Leeds. Why not? She's the most attractive woman I ever met——"
"Very well. But don't talk about marrying her—as though you had merely to suggest it to her. You know, after all, Mrs. Leeds may have ideas of her own."