“I am sure I have not the least objection to him shooting a highwayman — my dear Hugh, do but look at that odd gown! What a figure of fun — oh, it is Lady Mary Coke! Well, small wonder. She never could dress, and really she is become so strange of late, people say she is growing absolutely English. Yes, Hugh, I heard it from Mr. Walpole, and he vowed she was mad — what was I saying? Vidal! Oh, yes, well, if he must shoot highwaymen, it’s very well, but to leave the poor man dead on the road — though I make no doubt he would have done the same to Vidal, for I believe they are horridly callous, these fellows — but that’s neither here nor there. Vidal had no right to leave him. Now people will say that he is wickedly blood-thirsty, or something disagreeable, and it is quite true, only one does not want the whole world to say so.” She drew a long breath. “And Léonie,” she said — “and yon know, Hugh, I am very fond of dear Léonie — Léonie will laugh, and say that her méchant Dominique is dreadfully thoughtless. Thoughtless!”

Davenant smiled. “I make no doubt she will,” he agreed. “I sometimes think that the Duchess of Avon will always remain, at heart — Léon, a page.”

“Hugh, do I beseech you, have a care! You do not know who may overhear you. As for Avon, I truly think he does not care at all what happens to Dominic.”

“After all,” Hugh said slowly, “Dominic is so very like him,”

Lady Fanny shut her fan with a snap. “If you are minded to be unkind about my poor Avon, Hugh, I warn you I shall not listen. Lud, I’m sure he has been a perfect paragon ever since he married Léonie. I know he is monstrous disagreeable, and no one was ever more provoking, unless it be Rupert, who, by the way, encourages Dominic in every sort of excess, just as one would expect — but I’ll stake my reputation Avon was never such a — yes, Hugh, such a devil as Vidal. Why, they call him Devil’s Cub! And if you are going to tell me that is because he is Avon’s son, all I can say is that you are in a very teasing mood, and it’s no such thing.”