Fouldes.
I started immediately I got your telegram. Pray tell me what I can do for you?
Lady Mereston.
My dear Paradine, Charlie's head over ears in love.
Fouldes.
It's not altogether an unexpected condition for a young man of twenty-two. If the lady's respectable, marry him and resign yourself to being a dowager. If she's not, give her five hundred pounds and pack her off to Paris or London or wherever else she habitually practises her arts and graces.
Lady Mereston.
I wish I could. But who d'you think it is?
Fouldes.
My dear, there's nothing I detest more than riddles. I can imagine quite a number of fair ladies who would look without disdain upon a young marquess with fifty thousand a year.