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In that mood, I regretted that I had ever lingered in those dear old corridors at Bannington when the moonbeams slanted through the mullions of the narrow old Tudor windows, and Ethel came down the broad oaken staircase with a look of well simulated surprise in her eyes at finding me there, dressed early for dinner and waiting for her to surrender those red lips of hers in a cousinly kiss.
"Yes, Your Majesty," answered the bewildered, wounded man as he disappeared in the dusk. I stood watching the Duke as he went coolly back without a word to me to his place; this, then, was the cool, resourceful scoundrel I had to deal with! Sitting by the big fire in the smoking-room at Bannington Hall that night after dinner, I told St.
So I packed up, and on the next morning, with my two cousins, left the tower of Bath Abbey behind and started en route for Bannington Hall, the Mid Norfolk mansion of Lord St. Nivel. The Vanboroughs were relatives of my mother's; she was one of that noble family, and the present peer's aunt.
My cousin Ethel at first did not by any means appreciate the turn my affections had recently taken; she made several pointed and rather sarcastic remarks about it, having in her mind, I presume, the recollection of our little meetings in the long corridors of dear old Bannington. "You seem very much taken up with that Miss d'Alta," she remarked one day. "I thought you did not like foreign girls.
At least my cousin, Ethel Vanborough, said I had. There was always something like home about dear old Bannington to me, with a sniff of the sea when you first stepped out of the carriage at the door. The big comfortable old landau with its pair of strong horses had now, however, given place to a smart motor car, upholstered like a little drawing-room. My cousin, Lord St.
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