‘House up,’ he said, ‘even sooner than I had expected. Come along with me will you and I’ll find the duke for you. By the way, that object in your pocket – it’s not a camera, is it?’
‘No indeed,’ said Jasper, ‘I am more than a little deaf and it is an instrument to assist my hearing.’
The curator blushed. ‘I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘I was obliged to ask you, as cameras are most strictly forbidden here.’
‘Naturally,’ said Jasper.
The curator now led them out on to the terrace which, like its prototype at Westminster, overhung a sheet of water and was covered with dainty tea-tables. Trooping on to it from another entrance was a throng of funereal-looking and for the most part ancient gentlemen. As they emerged some of them formed little groups animated with earnest conversation, while others made straight for the tea-tables, loudly ordering vanilla ices, crumpets, raspberry jam or sausages and mash.
‘Ah! Duke,’ said the curator. Breaking into one of the groups he buttonholed a tall, rather paunchy but handsome old man and conducted him towards the place where Jasper and Poppy stood waiting. ‘Here are two visitors to see you, your grandson Mr Aspect, and Mrs St Julien.’
‘My boy,’ said the duke, in tones of exaggerated emotion. His watery eyes brimmed over and a large tear splashed the pavement. He took hold of Jasper’s arm in two places and shook it up and down with vigour. ‘My boy. Very good of you to come and see your old grandfather. Not many of my descendants can be bothered to these days.’
The curator slipped away.
The duke then greeted Poppy with a courtly bow and conducted them both to an adjacent table. When they were seated Jasper said, ‘My fiancée,’ indicating Poppy.
‘Yes, yes, I suppose so,’ said the duke. ‘Charming little lady. I always used to think, in my younger days, that it takes a lot to beat a pretty widow, and you are a very pretty widow my dear, if I may be permitted to say so.’ He pressed his foot gently on Poppy’s underneath the table. She gave him an inviting smile, whereupon he proceeded to hold her hand as well. ‘And when are you going to be married may I ask – lucky fella,’ he said, turning towards Jasper, but firmly retaining Poppy’s hand.
‘That’s just what we wanted to discuss with you sir,’ said Jasper, ‘because we would do nothing without your approval naturally. As soon as Mrs St Julien consented to become my wife I said we must come over and ask for your blessing. We are staying at Chalford you see.’
‘Upon my soul, that was very polite and considerate of you, young man,’ cried the duke heartily. ‘Not one of my own children ever bothered about a thing like that, I’m most extremely touched. Charming little lady too, charming. So what are you up to these days, Jasper my boy – soldier, sailor, candle-stick maker, or what, eh?’
‘Well, at the moment I’m out of work,’ said Jasper. ‘A gentleman of leisure you might say.’ He was not very sure how this news would be received. Other elderly persons of his acquaintance were always trying to chivvy him into jobs of extraordinary uncongeniality. He need have had no qualms, the duke was delighted.
‘That’s damned good news, by Jove,’ he said, ‘damned good. Why I do believe you’re the only one of my grandsons who is not in trade. I hate trade, it’s not suitable for a gentleman. Gentlemen, my grandsons, should have leisure and plenty of it, I hate all this hurrying about, getting up early in the morning to sell motor cars and such nonsense. Bradenham’s sons all do it, most inconsiderate of them, in my opinion. It lets down the traditions of a fine old family. Gentlemen should go into politics, that’s their duty – to govern the country, it’s the only thing they’re fit for anyway.
‘What are your politics, my boy?’
‘I’m an out-and-out anti-White Paper Tory,’ said Jasper advisedly.
‘Splendid. I can see that we shall get on famously. And you don’t stand for Parliament?’
‘I can’t afford to,’ said Jasper, who was longing to bring the conversation round to the subject of money.
‘Quite right. Nobody can afford to get mixed up with that rabble in the Commons, it’s the greatest mistake, believe me. If you wait long enough they’re bound to give you a peerage, always do in the end, and then you’ll be able to come here. This is the only legislative assembly that’s worth two pins these days, I assure you.’
There was a silence, while Jasper racked his brains to think of the most pleasing terms in which a request for money could be couched. The duke, however, relieved him of the necessity by saying, ‘Only wish I could do something for you, my boy, pay off your debts or make you an allowance, but there it is – I hope you understand the situation. I expect I am poorer than you are, if anything.’
Jasper looked at Poppy and raised his eyes to heaven.
‘We landowners,’ continued the duke, ‘are very hard hit in these days. Ever since finance bills have been taken out of our hands, in the Lords, the country has gone from bad to worse. We have had one Socialist government after another, I don’t know which are more Socialistic, the Labour people or these milk-and-water White-Paper, lily-livered, black-hearted, so-called Conservatives. It’s a scandal. They take half your income away before you have a chance of getting at it, and the other half shortly afterwards. Hard times for millionaires these are, I can tell you. Then you know my expenses here’ (he lowered his voice) ‘are very heavy – very. Why, a pot of tea costs sixpence and I must say I do like to have a crumpet with it sometimes – fourpence! Rank profiteering of course. However, tell you what I’ll do, my boy. I’ll send up to my bank and find out
