I like you to tell me so. Let me
be a fool if I will."
"What made you so obstinate?"
"I don't know. I never could tell. It wasn't that I didn't dote upon
you, and think about you, and feel quite sure that there never could
be any other one than you."
"I've no doubt it was all right;--only you very nearly made me shoot
a fellow, and now I've got to find horses for him. I wonder whether
he could ride Dandolo?"
"Don't put him up on anything very hard."
"Why not? His wife is dead, and he hasn't got a child, nor yet an
acre of property. I don't know who is entitled to break his neck if
he is not. And Dandolo is as good a horse as there is in the stable,
if you can once get him to go. Mind, I have to start to-morrow at
nine, for it's all eighteen miles." And so the Master of the Brake
Hounds took himself to his repose.
Lady Laura Kennedy had written to Barrington Erle respecting her
friend's political interests, and to her sister-in-law, Lady
Chiltern, as to his social comfort. She could not bear to think that
he should be left alone in London till Parliament should meet, and
had therefore appealed to Lady Chiltern as to the memory of many past
events.
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