The valet bowed, and withdrew, bearing with him the cherished boots. St. Erth poured out two glasses of brandy, gave one to his cousin, and sank into a deep chair on the other side of the fire. Theo, who had blinked at the magnificence of the dressing-gown, openly laughed at him, and said: “I think you must have joined the dandy-set, Gervase!”
“Yes, so Martin seemed to think also,” agreed Gervase, rolling the brandy round his glass.
“Oh — ! You heard that, then?”
“Was I not meant to hear it?”
“I don’t know.” Theo was silent for a moment, looking into the fire, but presently he raised his eyes to his cousin’s face, and said abruptly: “He resents you, Gervase.”
“That has been made plain to me — but not why.”
“Is the reason so hard to seek? You stand between him and the Earldom.”
“But, my dear Theo, so I have always done! I am not a lost heir, returning to oust him from a position he thought his own!”
“Not lost, but I fancy he did think the position might well be his,” Theo replied.
“He seems to me an excessively foolish young man, but he cannot be such a saphead as that!” expostulated Gervase. “Only I could succeed to my father’s room!”
“Very true, but dead men do not succeed,” said Theo dryly.
“Dead men!” Gervase exclaimed, startled and amused.
“My dear Gervase, you have taken part in more than one engagement, and you will own that it could not have been thought surprising had you met your end upon a battlefield. It was, in fact, considered to be a likely contingency.”