Viking. There are, however, always Drew's heiresses," he said as he rose. "If you will put in a good word for me, say that I'm tame, with no particularly bad habits, don't like cards, seldom take cold, and am as domesticated as a foundling cat, I feel I have a chance." He held out his hand, and Lady Drewitt extended hers with reluctance.
"Richard, you're a fool," she announced with almost vindictive decision. He smiled, bowed and closed the door behind him.
"Payne," he remarked as the butler opened the door for him, "there are worse things in life than rheumatism;" and he went down the steps leaving Payne to digest the remark.
As Beresford walked along Curzon Street he saw the Edward Seymours approaching; their mission was too obvious to require explanation. They were calling on Lady Drewitt to hear the result of the interview with her prodigal nephew.
"Well," sneered Edward Seymour in the tone he invariably adopted to Beresford, "have you enjoyed yourself?"
"Immensely, thank you, Edward," was the smiling reply. "It always does me good to hear Aunt Caroline talk of you."
"Talk of me." There was eagerness and anxiety in Edward Seymour's voice, as he looked sharply at Beresford, and then apprehensively in the direction of his wife.
"What did dear Aunt Caroline say about Edward?" enquired Mrs. Edward sweetly.
