“That is most interesting, my dear,” purred his Grace. “But pray strive to be a little more original. Continue your analysis of Richard’s sterling character.”

“ ’Tis only that we are so different,” she sighed. “I always desire to do things quickly⁠—if I think of something, I want it at once⁠—at once! You know, Tracy! And he likes to wait and think on it, and⁠—oh, ’tis so tiresome, and it puts me in a bad humour, and I behave like a hysterical bourgeoise!” She got up swiftly, clasping her nervous little hands. “When he speaks to me in that gentle, reasoning way, I could scream, Tracy! Do you think I am mad?” She laughed unmusically.

“No,” he replied, “but the next thing to it: a Belmanoir. Perhaps it was a pity you ever married Richard. But there is always the money.”

“There is not,” she cried out sharply.

“Not? What mean you?”

“Tracy, ’tis of this that I wanted to speak! You think my lord left his money to Dick?”