Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 44).djvu/235

 "No. But, I say," I said, "are you going to marry him?"

"I'm only a palmist. I don't pretend to be a clairvoyante. A marriage may be indicated in Lord Weeting's hand, but I couldn't say without looking at it."

"But, look here, I shall have to tell Lady Florence something definite, or she won't give me a moment's peace."

"Tell her Lord Weeting is of age. Surely that's definite enough?"

And I couldn't get any more out of her. I went back to Florence and reported. She got pretty excited about it.

"Oh, if I were a man!" she said.

I didn't see how that would have helped. I said so.

"I'd go straight to Edwin and drag him away. He is staying at his club. If I were a man I could go in and find him"

"Not if you weren't a member," I said.

"And tell him what I thought of his conduct. As I'm only a woman, I have to wait in the hall while a deceitful small boy pretends to go and look for him."

It had never struck me before what a jolly sound institution a club was. Only a few days back I'd been thinking that the subscription to mine was a bit steep. But now I saw that the place earned every penny of the money.

"Have you no influence with him, Reginald?"

I said I didn't think I had. She called me something. Invertebrate, or something. I didn't catch it.

"Then there's only one thing to do. You must find my father and tell him all. Perhaps you may rouse him to a sense of what is right. You may make him remember that he has duties as a parent."

I thought it far more likely that I should make him remember that he had a foot. I hadn't a very vivid recollection of Lord Worplesdon. I was quite a kid when he made his great speech on the egg question and legged it for the Continent; but what I did recollect didn't encourage me to go and chat with him about the duties of a parent. As I remembered him, he was a rather large man with elephantiasis of the temper. I distinctly recalled one occasion when I was spending my summer holidays at Weeting and he found me trying to shave old Percy, then a kid of fourteen, with his razor.

"I shouldn't be able to find him," I said.

"You can get his address from his solicitors."

"He may be at the North Pole."

"Then you must go to the North Pole."

"But, I say"