"That's because I am married, of course," she went on. "If you were a sensible man, you would settle down to adore me and not think of anybody else at all. But you won't do it. You'll want to buy palaces and yachts and town houses and theatres, like all the rest of the superfluously rich, and you'll want a musical comedy star to wear your jewels, and a wife to entertain your friends."
"Well, you must admit that I haven't been in a hurry about any of these things yet," he observed.
"Look here, my young friend," she said, "you haven't made the one mistake I warned you against, have you? You haven't fallen in love with Letitia?"
"I am not quite such a fool as that," he assured her.
"Well, I should hope not," she enjoined severely. "Besides, as a matter of fact, Letitia is engaged. Her young man is staying at Mandeleys now. Just answer me one question, David--why did you refuse that invitation to dinner?"
"Because I didn't feel like coming," he answered. "I thought it would probably be a large party, most of them neighbours, and every one would have to make an effort to entertain me because I am a stranger, and don't know their ways or anything about them."
"There you are again!" she exclaimed. "Just as sensitive as you can be, for all your millions! You'll come, David--please?"
"Of course I will, if you ask me like that," he assented.
She turned to her brother, who was approaching.
"Success!" she announced. "Mr. Thain has promised to dine. He refused under a misapprehension."
"We are delighted," the Marquis said. "At a quarter past eight, Mr. Thain."
Gossett in the country was a very different person from Gossett in Grosvenor Square. An intimate at Mandeleys was not at all the same thing as a caller in town, and David found himself welcomed that evening with a grave but confidential smile.
"The drawing-room here is closed for the present, sir," he observed, after he had superintended the bestowal of David's coat and hat upon an underling. "We are using the gallery on the left wing. If you will be so kind as to come this way."
David was escorted into a long and very lofty apartment, cut off from the hall by some wonderful curtains, obviously of another generation. The walls were hung with pictures and old-fashioned weapons. At the far end was a small stage, and at the opposite extremity a little box which had apparently at some time been used by musicians. Some large beech logs were burning in an open fireplace. The room contained nothing in the way of furniture except a dozen or so old-fashioned chairs and a great settee.