"I haven't seen her yet," Beresford confessed.
"There are only two sorts of men in the world, Richard," said Drewitt after a short silence. "Those who make asses of themselves and those"
"How is she," interrupted Beresford.
"Who, the Aunt?"
"Yes."
"At the present moment she is much occupied with a project by which I shall become the legal protector of a lady's freckled and rather shapeless charms and, incidentally, the guardian of her estate, amounting to I forget how many million dollars."
"Noblesse oblige," laughed Beresford.
"Noblesse be damned," murmured Drewitt evenly. "The situation is not without its embarrassments," he added.
"But surely you can decline," said Beresford. "You have your two thousand a year."
"Two thousand a year is just sufficient to embarrass a man who otherwise might have carved out a career for himself, in accordance with the best traditions of the novel. With nothing at all I should have got into the illustrated papers as a romantic figure in London Society; but with two thousand a year" he shrugged his shoulders and, with great deliberation, extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray beside him.
"There is always hope, Drew, 'Unto him who hath shall be given.'"
"Precisely," replied Drewitt, "unto him that hath two thousand a year shall be given Aunt Caroline
