“You may safely trust me not to do that. But you must give me an invitation to come and stay with you at Pincote for a week.”
“With all my heart.”
“I shall devote myself very assiduously to Mrs. McDermott, so that you must not be surprised if we seem to be very great friends in the course of a couple of days.”
“Do as you like, boy. I’ll take no notice. But she’s an old soldier, is Fan, and if for a single moment she suspects what you are after, she’ll nail her colours to the mast, defy us all, and stop here for six months longer.”
“It is, of course, quite possible that I may fail,” said Tom, “but somehow I hardly think that I shall.”
“We’ll have a glass of sherry together and drink to your success. By-the-by, have you contrived yet to purge your brain of that lovesick tomfoolery?”
“If, sir, you intend that phrase to apply to my feelings with regard to Miss Culpepper, I can only say that they are totally unchanged.”
“What an idiot you are in some things, Bristow!” said the Squire, crustily. “Remember this—I’ll have no lovemaking here next week.”
“You need have no fear on that score, sir.”