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A Damsel in Distress

Page 161

Lord Marshmoreton had rallied from his initial panic. The spirit of

revolt began to burn again in his bosom. Once the die is cast for

revolution, there can be no looking back. One must defy, not

apologize. Perhaps the inherited tendencies of a line of ancestors

who, whatever their shortcomings, had at least known how to treat

their women folk, came to his aid. Possibly there stood by his side

in this crisis ghosts of dead and buried Marshmoretons, whispering

spectral encouragement in his ear--the ghosts, let us suppose, of

that earl who, in the days of the seventh Henry, had stabbed his

wife with a dagger to cure her tendency to lecture him at night; or

of that other earl who, at a previous date in the annals of the

family, had caused two aunts and a sister to be poisoned apparently

from a mere whim. At any rate, Lord Marshmoreton produced from

some source sufficient courage to talk back.

"Silly nonsense!" he grunted. "Don't see what you're making all

this fuss about. Maud loves the fellow. I like the fellow.

Perfectly decent fellow. Nothing to make a fuss about. Why

shouldn't I announce the engagement?"

"You must be mad!" cried Lady Caroline. "Your only daughter and a

man nobody knows anything about!"

"Quite!" said Percy.

Lord Marshmoreton seized his advantage with the skill of an adroit

debater.

"That's where you're wrong. I know all about him. He's a very rich

man. You heard the way all those people at dinner behaved when they

heard his name. Very celebrated man! Makes thousands of pounds a

year. Perfectly suitable match in every way."

"It is not a suitable match," said Lady Caroline vehemently. "I

don't care whether this Mr. Bevan makes thousands of pounds a year

or twopence-ha'penny. The match is not suitable. Money is not

everything."

She broke off. A knock had come on the door. The door opened, and

Billie Dore came in. A kind-hearted girl, she had foreseen that

Lord Marshmoreton might be glad of a change of subject at about

this time.

"Would you like me to help you tonight?" she asked brightly. "I

thought I would ask if there was anything you wanted me to do."

Lady Caroline snatched hurriedly at her aristocratic calm. She

resented the interruption acutely, but her manner, when she spoke,

was bland.

"Lord Marshmoreton will not require your help tonight," she said.

"He will not be working."

"Good night," said Billie.

"Good night," said Lady Caroline.

Percy scowled a valediction.

"Money," resumed Lady Caroline, "is immaterial. Maud is in no

position to be obliged to marry a rich man. What makes the thing

impossible is that Mr. Bevan is nobody. He comes from nowhere. He

has no social standing whatsoever."

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