Page:Herbert Jenkins - The Rain Girl.djvu/146

 "You promise to poison me then," he said, looking up appealingly, "you promise on—on your hope of an allotment?"

"I'll think it over, my lord."

"A broken reed," cried Lord Drewitt, as he sank back in his chair. "Just like the rest, you are a broken reed." He paused to light a cigarette. "Have you ever thought of marriage, Hoskins?" he inquired.

"No, my lord," was the hesitating reply, "that is, not seriously."

"Ah! you are the child of your generation. Your tendency is to think lightly of serious things. Do you know the meaning of love, honour and obey?"

"I—er—think"

"Showing conclusively that you don't," continued Lord Drewitt. "A wife loves her freedom; her husband honours her cheques; and she obeys the dictates of fashion. Hoskins, I warn you against marrying."

"Thank you, my lord."

Lord Drewitt looked at him sharply; but his cherubic expression was devoid of any suggestion of guile.

"There is no necessity for you to marry," Lord Drewitt continued. "There is no title, the world will go round just as well without any little Hoskinses, and you have enough for your immediate needs."

"Thanks to you, my lord, I have," he said gratefully.