“Isobel is a loving woman. She will always see eye to eye with Guy. Whatever he determines, she will acquiesce in.”
Farquhar sighed. Ambition was always with him the dominating note. He regretted its absence in others.
“A pity,” he said. “With your family influence, he might go far.”
“He doesn’t want to go far, Mr Farquhar,” she whispered. She pointed at the slumbering figure of Lord Saxham. “My father has plenty of brains; if he had worked, he might have been Prime Minister, or very near it. In the Rossett family, there is a certain amount of grit, but not quite enough to bring them to the foremost place.”
Farquhar leaned across the table. This was certainly one of the most charming women he had ever met.
“I say, Lady Mary, what a pity you are not a man. If you had been, I am sure you would have put the Rossett family in their right place.” He cast a cautious glance at the still slumbering host.
Lady Mary smiled pleasantly. She was not ill-pleased with the genuine compliment.
“Yes, perhaps, if I had been born a man. I should certainly have been better than Eric, perhaps a shade better than Guy.” She broke off suddenly. “But it is idle to talk of these things. I am a woman, and must be contented with my lot, my humble sphere. Now, can you tell me anything of my brother?”
“You want me to tell you the truth, and you will not be afraid to hear it?”
“No, I shall not be afraid.” She spoke very bravely, but he noticed that her hands were trembling.