‘Oh, there are sons, then?’
‘Yes, very fine young fellows; one of them rowed three in the Cambridge eight this year—which beat your favourite Oxford crew, my lady. They’re handsome too.’
‘Well, I can’t be jealous of them, can I?’
‘No, nor of any girl or woman alive, as you well know—say you know it, dear, won’t you? You’re only trying to draw me?’
‘I suppose I must forgive you, as usual, though you’ve stayed away an unconscionable time, and spent more money in London than you ought to have done—now haven’t you?’
‘I had to complete arrangements—and—er—er—there were business details. Hang it! if a man can’t have a little amusement when he gets a cheque for a couple of hundred thousand, after being mewed up in a place like this for years, when is he to have it? And the old clubs were so pleasant, and the fellows so glad to see me again, y’know!’
‘Oh yes, I know! And ready to play bridge and billiards, no doubt. So you think I’d like to pay Mrs. What’s-her-name a visit, and see the old place again? Perhaps it would be rather a lark.’
‘Don’t be reckless, dear! That’s not your line, but if you could manage it, some day, when [342] ]the girls are at their pensions, I guarantee that you’d enjoy it. It would please them awfully—and me, if that counts.’
‘Well, perhaps I’ll see about it—but don’t be sure just yet.’