“Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. “What ought you to do?” He began to produce his knowledge of the world for her benefit, jerkily and allusively, and with a strong, rank flavor of “savoir faire. But if only you will come I do not care. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did. There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged.
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