‘I admit the chief difficulty will lie with Septimus,’ placidly replied Lavinia. ‘He is very self-willed at times.’
‘Leave that part of the affair to me,’ exclaimed Penelope with haughty confidence.
Further discussion was summarily put an end to by the entrance of the individual in question. We must confess that although he wore ‘the livery of woe,’ the countenance of Septimus was not expressive of any considerable grief for the loss of his ‘well-beloved cousin.’ Constantly before his mental vision floated the Bank Stock, India Bonds, and Three per Cents of which he had so recently become the possessor. Frequently during the day he checked himself in the middle of a lively air of Offenbach or Sullivan, which he found himself humming with considerable gusto. He would pause suddenly, and mould his features into a becoming expression accordingly. Mr Redgrave looked considerably older than his years, his hair and whiskers being quite gray, and his features somewhat wrinkled. But he was always dressed with scrupulous care, and in the days of the Regency would have been dubbed a ‘buck’ of the first water.
‘Have you seen the Frasers this morning, Septimus?’ inquired Penelope. ‘I mean, since breakfast.’
‘They have gone as far as Luccombe Chine with young Lockwood. I preferred a quiet read of the Times.’
‘Septimus, will you give us a few minutes of your valuable time?’
Mr Redgrave, accustomed to defer to the wishes of his elder sister in most things, submissively seated himself in front of Penelope and prepared to listen accordingly.
‘Lavinia and I have been discussing your improved fortune and prospects. Although your sisters have led a very retired and secluded life, they have some knowledge of human nature, and are quite prepared to learn that their only brother has been the target for every selfish and intriguing woman with whom he has been brought in contact. The only safeguard appears to us to be an engagement with some suitable person.’
The aquiline features of Septimus flushed somewhat as he replied: ‘If you mean that I am to sacrifice my liberty when I am best prepared to enjoy it, you will excuse my saying that you are tilting at a windmill. If you think so highly of matrimony, why don’t you swallow the prescription yourself?’
If it be objected that this retort can scarcely be considered such as should proceed from the lips of a gentleman, it must be borne in mind that Septimus was an irascible man, and that when he lost command of his temper he always lost at the same time command of his tongue.