Katherine Holroyd called
her a coquette, Austin whatever the whim of a cultured fancy suggested,
and Lord Banstead a little devil. As for Dick, he called her nothing.
His love was too great; his vocabulary too small.
Lord Banstead was a neighbour who, in the course of three months, had
proposed several times to Viviette.
"I'm not very much to look at," he remarked on the first of these
occasions--he was a weedy, pallid youth of six-and-twenty--"and the
title's not very old, I must admit. Governor only a scientific Johnnie,
Margetson, the celebrated chemist, you know, who discovered some beastly
gas or other and got made a peer--but I can sit with the other old
rotters in the House of Lords, you know, if I want. And I've got enough
to run the show, if you'll keep me from chucking it away as I'm doing.
It'd be a godsend if you'd marry me, I give you my word."
"Before I have anything to do with you," replied Viviette, who had heard
Dick express his opinion of Lord Banstead in forcible terms, "you'll
have to forswear sack, and--and a very big AND--"
Lord Banstead, not being learned in literary allusions, looked
bewildered.
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