There was an old lord about London in those days, or rather one who was an
old Liberal but a young lord, one Lord Mount Thistle, who had sat in the
Cabinet, and had lately been made a peer when his place in the Cabinet was
wanted. He was a pompous, would-be important, silly old man, well
acquainted with all the traditions of his party, and perhaps on that
account useful, but a bore, and very apt to meddle when he was not wanted.
Lady Glencora, on the day after her dinner-party, whispered into his ear
that Lord Fawn was getting himself into trouble, and that a few words of
caution, coming to him from one whom he respected so much as he did Lord
Mount Thistle, would be of service to him. Lord Mount Thistle had known
Lord Fawn's father, and declared himself at once to be quite entitled to
interfere. "He is really behaving badly to Lady Eustace," said Lady
Glencora, "and I don't think that he knows it." Lord Mount Thistle, proud
of a commission from the hands of Lady Glencora, went almost at once to
his old friend's son. He found him at the House that night, and whispered
his few words of caution in one of the lobbies.
"I know you will excuse me, Fawn," Lord Mount Thistle said, "but people
seem to think that you are not behaving quite well to Lady Eustace.
Pages:
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856