"What did Richard say to you?" demanded Lady Drewitt.
"He didn't say anything, Aunt Caroline," began Mrs. Edward tactfully, "but"
"He was very rude to me," interrupted Edward Seymour peevishly.
"What did he say?" demanded Lady Drewitt, fixing her uncomfortable nephew with her eye.
"It was his manner," Mrs. Edward hastened to say. "His manner is always very—very rude to poor Edward."
Lady Drewitt gave expression to a noise suggestive of a horse clearing its nostrils of fodder-dust.
"He's mad," muttered Lady Drewitt half to herself; "but he's got the real Challice independence."
"I'm afraid he worries you a lot, dear Aunt Caroline," said Mrs. Edward, alarmed lest out of the kindness of her heart Lady Drewitt should take a too generous view of Beresford's shortcomings.
"He doesn't worry me nearly so much as Edward does fidgeting," snapped Lady Drewitt, fixing Edward Seymour with her eye. "Why on earth do you bring him with you, Cecily?"
Mrs. Edward threw a warning glance at her husband, then catching her aunt's eye she smiled at him indulgently, much as if he had been a favourite dog whose removal from the room was under discussion.
For half an hour Mrs. Edward strove to extract from Lady Drewitt what had taken place during her interview with Beresford; but without result.
