“Now I understand,” he said placidly. “I was at a loss before.”
“ ’Tis not that, Tracy! Indeed I realise how kind he is to me. And we have quarrelled again. We are always quarrelling, and I know ’tis all my fault.”
“What a comfortable conviction, my dear!”
“No, no! ’Tis not comfortable, Tracy! For somehow I cannot change my disposition, though I mean to be patient and sweet. Tracy, I hate Wyncham!”
“You hate Wyncham? There was a time—”
“I know, I know! But I never meant to live here always like this! I want to go to London!”
“I thought you said you were going?”
“Yes, I am! But I want to go with someone who is gay-not—not—”
“In fact, you want distraction, and not with the amiable Richard? Well, I can conceive that life with him might prove uninspiring. Safe, my dear, but not exciting.”
“I knew you would understand! You see, he does not like me to play at cards, because I cannot stop! And he cannot see how ’tis that I care nought for what he calls ‘home-life’ when there are routs, and the play, and real life. He—he is so—so—so staid, Tracy, and careful!”
“A good trait in a husband, Lavinia,” replied his Grace cynically. “ ’Tis because I do not possess it that I am single now.”
Her lips curled scornfully at this, for well she knew her brother.
“No, Tracy, that is not so! It is because you are a devil! No woman would marry you!”
“That is most interesting, my dear,” purred his Grace. “But pray strive to be a little more original. Continue your analysis of Richard’s sterling character.”
“ ’Tis only that we are so different,” she sighed. “I always desire to do things quickly—if I think of something, I want it at once—at once! You know, Tracy! And he likes to wait and think on it, and—oh, ’tis so tiresome, and it puts me in a bad humour, and I behave like a hysterical bourgeoise!” She got up swiftly, clasping her nervous little hands. “When he speaks to me in that gentle, reasoning way, I could scream, Tracy! Do you think I am mad?” She laughed unmusically.
“No,” he replied, “but the next thing to it: a Belmanoir. Perhaps it was a pity you ever married Richard. But there is always the money.”
“There is not,” she cried out sharply.
“Not? What mean you?”
“Tracy, ’tis of this that I wanted to speak! You think my lord left his money to Dick?”
“Certainly. He should be stupendously wealthy.”
“He is not!”
“But, my good girl, the revenue must be enormous. He has the land, surely?”
“No! No! He has not the land! Oh, but I am angry whenever I think on it! He induced my lord to leave it to John. He has but his younger son’s portion!”
“I still fail to understand. You informed me that the Earl left all to Richard?”
“He changed his will, Tracy!”
“He—changed—his—will! Then, my dear, must you have played your cards very badly!”
“ ’Twas not my fault, Tracy—indeed ’twas not! I knew nought until the will was read. Richard never spoke a word to me about it! And now we are comparatively poor!” Her voice trembled with indignation, but his Grace only whistled beneath his breath.
“I always knew, of course, that Dick was a fool, but I never guessed how much so till now!”
At that she flared up.
“He is not a fool! He is an honest man, and ’tis we—we, I tell you—who are mean and despicable and mercenary!”
“Undoubtedly, Lavinia, but pray do not excite yourself over it. I suppose he is still devoted to that young hothead?”
“Yes, yes—’tis all Jack, Jack, Jack, until I am sick to death of the sound of his name—and—” She broke off, biting her lip.
“And what?”
“Oh, nought! But ’tis all so disagreeable, Tracy!”
“It certainly is slightly disturbing. You had better have chosen John, in spite of all, it seems.”
She stamped angrily.
“Oh, where’s the good in being flippant?”
“My dear Lavinia, where’s the good in being anything else? The situation strikes me as rather amusing. To think of the worthy Richard so neatly overturning all my plans!”
“If it had not been for you, I might never have married him. Why did you throw them both in my way? Why did I ever set eyes on either?”
“It should have been a good match, my dear, and, if I remember rightly, no one was more alive to that fact than yourself.”
She pouted angrily and turned her shoulder to him.
“Still,” he continued reflectively, “I admit that for the smart lot we are, we do seem rather to have bungled the affair.”
Lavinia swept round upon him.
“Oh, do you care no more than that? How can you be so casual! Does it affect you not at all?”
He wrinkled his thin nose expressively.
“I shall not weep over it, Lavinia, but ’tis a plaguey nuisance. But we must see what can be done. And that brings me back to the original subject. Despite these upsetting revelations, I still require that money.”
“Oh, dear! How much must you have, Tracy?”
“Five hundred might suffice.”
“Tracy, do not the estates bring in anything?” she asked petulantly. “And Andrew told us you had a run of marvellous luck not a fortnight since?”
“Since then, my dear, I have had three runs of marvellous ill-luck. As to the estates, they are mortgaged up to the hilt, as you very well know. What little there is is between three. And Robert is extravagant.”
“I hate Robert!”
“I am not partial to him myself, but it makes no odds.”
“I wish he might die!—oh no, no! Now I am become ill-natured again—I don’t wish it—only I am so tired of everything. You shall have that money as soon as possible; but be careful, Tracy—please be careful! ’Tis not easy to get money from Dick!”
“No, I should imagine not. However, we have managed rather well up to the present, take it all in all.”
“Up to the present he has had all the money he wanted. My lord denied him nought!”
“Well, ’tis unfortunate, as I said before, but it must be endured.
