‘Phaeton,’ said Mr Ringwood, writing it down.
‘And Sherry will teach me how to drive it,’ said Hero happily.
Sherry’s friends spoke as one man. ‘No!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he can’t drive,’ replied Mr Ringwood, not mincing matters.
‘Sherry can drive! He drives better thananyone!’
Ferdy shook his head. ‘You’re thinking of someone else. Not Sherry. Wouldn’t have him in the F.H.C. Wouldn’t look at him. No precision. Gil’s your man. Drives to an inch: regular nonpareil!’
Mr Ringwood blushed at this tribute, and was understood to murmur that he would be happy to teach Lady Sherry anything that lay within his power. Hero thanked him, but it was evident that her faith in Sherry’s skill was unshaken. Sherry, who had merely grinned at his friend’s strictures, said with unwonted modesty that she had best let Gil take her in hand. His style of driving, although he would back himself to take the shine out of most of the men on the road, was not, he owned, quite suited to a lady. He engaged himself, however, to find her a really sweet-going horse, unless – with a challenging look at Mr Ringwood – he was not thought to be a judge of horse-flesh?
Mr Ringwood hastened to assure him that he had perfect confidence in his ability to choose proper high-bred ’uns; and since every provision for Hero’s future well-being seemed now to have been made, put away his visiting-card and began to address himself to his supper.
SIX
THE VISCOUNT’S FIRSTaction on the following morning was to sally forth to pay a call on his uncle, the Honourable Prosper Verelst. This gentleman occupied a set of chambers in Albany, and since it was one of his idiosyncrasies never to stir forth from his abode until after noon, his nephew was sure of finding him at home. He found him, in fact, partaking of a late breakfast, his valet being under orders to let no one in. The Viscount overcame this hindrance by putting the valet bodily out of his way, and walked in on his uncle without ceremony.
The Honourable Prosper was by far too corpulent a man to be anything but easy-going, and beyond fetching a groan at sight of his nephew, he evinced no sign of the annoyance he felt at being disturbed at such an hour. Merely he waved Sherry to a chair and went on with his breakfast.
‘I wish you will tell that fool of a man of yours not to try to keep me out, sir,’ complained the Viscount, laying his hat and cane down.
‘But I want him to keep you out,’ responded Prosper placidly. ‘I like you, Sherry, but I’m damned if I’ll be fidgeted by your starts at this time of day.’
‘Well, he ain’t going to keep me out,’ said Sherry. ‘Not but what I shan’t want to see so much of you now. Come to tell you I was married yesterday.’
If he had expected his uncle to betray surprise, he was destined to be disappointed. Prosper turned a lack-lustre blue eye upon him, and said: ‘Oh, you were, were you? Made a fool of yourself, I suppose?’
‘No such thing! I’ve married Hero Wantage!’ said Sherry indignantly.
‘Never heard of her,’ said Prosper, pouring himself out some more coffee. ‘Not but what I’m glad. You can take charge of your own affairs now. They’ve been worrying me excessively.’
‘Worrying you excessively!’ ejaculated Sherry. ‘Well, if that don’t beat all! Much you’ve done to take care of ’em! You’ve left it all to that platter-faced sharp, my uncle Horace, and if he hasn’t feathered his nest I know nothing of the matter!’
Prosper added a lavish amount of cream to his coffee. ‘Yes, I should think you’re right, Sherry,’ he said. ‘I always did think so, and very worrying it was, I can tell you.’
‘Well, why the devil didn’t you do something to stop it?’ demanded Sherry, pardonably irritated.
‘Because I’m too lazy,’ replied his uncle, with the utmost frankness. ‘If you were my size, you’d know better than to ask me a damned stupid question like that. What’s more, I never could abide that fellow Paulett, and if I’m not to go off in an apoplexy there’s only one thing for it, and that’s to keep away from him. Saving your presence, nevvy, I don’t like any of your mother’s relatives, while as for Valeria herself – well, that’s neither here nor there! Why do you have to come pestering me at this hour just because you’ve got yourself tied-up, boy?’
‘Because you’ve got to wind up the Trust,’ replied Sherry. He produced a document from his pocket and laid it on the table. ‘There’s my marriage-lines, or whatever you call ’em. I’ll write to my mother myself, but it’s you who must deal with the lawyers.’
Prosper sighed, but attempted no remonstrance. ‘Well, I don’t mind seeing old Ditchling,’ he said. ‘What are you going to do,Sherry? Do you want your mother to retire to the Dower House? She won’t like that.’
‘No,’ said Sherry, who had already given this matter a little thought. ‘Country life don’t suit me, and I’d as soon she stayed at Sheringham Place to keep her eye on things as not. Mind you, I’d give something to kick Uncle Horace out, but I suppose it can’t be done. Not without my mother having the vapours, and I don’t want that. But I’m going to hold the purse-strings, and although I don’t mind feeding him and housing him, I’m damned if I’ll pay for his little pleasures any longer!’
‘Well, it’s not my affair,’ said Prosper, ‘but if I were in your shoes I’d be rid of him.’
‘You wouldn’t. You’re too lazy. Besides, I don’t want to put my mother into one of her takings, and that’s what would happen, if I kicked Uncle Horace out, as sure as check! Ten to one she’d come up to town to live, and that wouldn’t suit me at all.’
‘No, my God!’ agreed Prosper, impressed by this commonsense point of view.
‘As for the town house, I haven’t made up my mind about that,’ continued Sherry. ‘I’m bound to say it ain’t much in my line, but I’m taking Hero to have a look at it to-day, and if she wants to live there she shall.’
‘She will,’ said Prosper cynically. ‘Trust any woman to jump at the chance of living in a draughty great mansion in the best part of town!’
