"Oh, just prowling round," he replied, leisurely.
"You tempt me to finish the quotation. Did you find anyone to devour?
Apropos, has his majesty, the Sultan, ever mentioned matrimony to you,
Staff?"
Stafford looked round at him for an instant.
"No," he said, curtly. "What the devil made you ask?"
"Merely my incessant speculation as to your future, my dear fellow,"
replied Howard, blandly. "Most fathers are ambitious for their sons,
and I should imagine that Sir Stephen would be extremely so. When a man
is simply a plain 'Mr.,' he longs for the 'Sir;' when he gets the
'Sir,' he wants the 'my Lord' for himself, or for his son and heir.
That is the worst of ambition: you can't satisfy it. I have no doubt in
my mind that at this very moment Sir Stephen is making for a peerage
for himself--or you. He can possibly gain his; but you, having no
brains to speak of--the fact that good-looking men are always deficient
in that respect is a continual and blessed consolation to us plain
ones, Staff--will have to make what the world calls a 'good marriage.'
Doubtless your father already has the future bride in his eye; the
daughter of a peer--high in the government, perhaps in the
cabinet--probably.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102