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Updated: June 27, 2025
And each earnest man is in earnest about something that nobody else cares for." When they were again in the drawing-room, Lord Popplecourt was seated next to Lady Mary. "Where are you going this autumn?" he asked. "I don't know in the least. Papa said something about going abroad." "You won't be at Custins?" Custins was Lord Cantrip's country seat in Dorsetshire.
"Everybody can't have it as easily arranged for him as you, a Duke's daughter and a pot of money without so much as the trouble of asking for it!" "What do you know about the Duke's children?" "That's what it is to be a lord and not to have a father." Popplecourt tried to show that he was disgusted; but he felt himself all the more strongly bound to go on with his project.
And yet it had answered so well with his wife! "Is Lord Popplecourt intimate here?" Lady Mabel asked her friend, Lord Silverbridge. "I don't know. I am not." "Lady Cantrip seems to think a great deal about him." "I dare say. I don't." "Your father seems to like him." "That's possible too. They're going back to London together in the governor's carriage.
Of course he asked her, but, as she had said, she could not quite tell him about Lord Popplecourt. The next morning the Duke asked his guest in a playful tone what was his Christian name. It could hardly be that he should not have known, but yet he asked the question. "Francis Oliphant," said Tregear. "Those are two Christian names I suppose, but what do they call you at home?"
Some vague half-defined tale had been told him, not about Tregear, as Tregear's name had not been mentioned, but respecting some dream of a young man who had flitted across the girl's path during her mother's lifetime. "All girls have such dreams," Lady Cantrip had suggested. Whereupon Lord Popplecourt said that he supposed it was so.
"Suppose he had upset her," said Lord Popplecourt, looking as an old philosopher might have looked when he had found some clenching answer to another philosopher's argument. "The real cabman might have upset her worse," said Lady Mary. "Don't you feel it odd that we should meet here?" said Lord Silverbridge to his neighbour, Lady Mabel. "Anything unexpected is odd," said Lady Mabel.
Dogs had gone amiss, or guns, and he had been made angry by the champagne which Popplecourt caused to be sent down. He knew what champagne meant. Whisky-and-water, and not much of it, was the liquor which Reginald Dobbes loved in the mountains. "Don't you call this a very ugly country?" Silverbridge asked as soon as he arrived.
I shall get to my own partridges on the 1st of September. I always manage that. Popplecourt is in Suffolk, and I don't think any man in England can beat me for partridges." "What do you do with all you slay?" "Leadenhall Market. I make it pay, or very nearly. Then I shall run back to Scotland for the end of the stalking, and I can easily manage to be at Custins by the middle of October.
"But a softer, purer, more unsullied flower never waited on its stalk till the proper fingers should come to pluck it," said Lady Cantrip, rising to unaccustomed poetry on behalf of her friend the Duke. Lord Popplecourt accepted the poetry and was ready to do his best to pluck the flower.
"She is so little given to seeking admiration." "I dare say." "Girls are so different, Lord Popplecourt. With some of them it seems that a gentleman need have no trouble in explaining what it is that he wishes." "I don't think Lady Mary is like that at all." "Not in the least. Any one who addresses her must be prepared to explain himself fully.
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