'Oh, I vow and protest that's ungenteel,' my lord complained. 'I vow and

protest it is!' he repeated querulously. 'See here, Pom, if you had won

her I'd not treat you like this!' 'Your lordship has not won her yet,' was the churlish answer.

'But she has said it, I tell you. She said she'd have me.' 'She won't be the first woman has altered her mind, nor the last,' Mr.

Pomeroy retorted with an oath. 'You may be amazing sure of that, my

lord.' And muttering something about a woman and a fool being near akin,

he spurned a dog out of his way, overset a chair, and strode cursing

from the room.

Lord Almeric stared after him, his face a queer mixture of vanity and

dismay. At last, 'Strikes me, Tommy, he's uncommon hard hit,' he said,

with a simper. 'He must have made surprising sure of her. Ah!' he

continued with a chuckle, as he passed his hand delicately over his

well-curled wig, and glanced at a narrow black-framed mirror that stood

between the windows. 'He is a bit too old for the women, is Pom. They

run to something lighter in hand. Besides, there's a--a way with the

pretty creatures, if you take me, and Pom has not got it. Now I flatter

myself I have, Tommy, and Julia--it is a sweet name, Julia, don't you

think?--Julia is of that way of thinking. Lord! I know women,' his

lordship continued, beaming the happier the longer he talked. 'It is not

what a man has, or what he has done, or even his taste in a coat or a

wig--though, mind you, a French friseur does a deal to help men to

bonnes fortunes--but it is a sort of a way one has. The silly

creatures cannot stand against it.' Mr. Thomasson hastened to agree, and to vouch her future ladyship's

flame in proof of my lord's prowess. But the tutor was a timid man; and

the more perfect the contentment with which he viewed the turn things

had taken, and the more nearly within his grasp seemed his five

thousand, the graver was the misgiving with which he regarded Mr.

Pomeroy's attitude. He had no notion what shape that gentleman's

hostility might take, nor how far his truculence might aspire. But he

guessed that Lord Almeric's victory had convinced the elder man that his

task would have been easy had the cards favoured him; and when a little

later in the day he saw Pomeroy walking in the park in the drenching

rain, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his wrap-rascal and his

chin bent on his breast, he trembled. He knew that when men of Mr.

Pomeroy's class take to thinking, some one is likely to lose.




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