His Grace was not in the least degree ruffled.

“I do not contemplate marriage, Lavinia, so your sympathies are wasted. I have met a girl⁠—a mere child, for sure⁠—and I will not rest until I have her.”

“Lord! Another farmer’s chit?”

“No, my dear sister, not another farmer’s chit. A lady.”

“God help her! Who is she? Where does she live?”

“She lives in Sussex. Her name I shall not tell you.”

Her ladyship kicked an offending cushion on to the floor, and snapped at him.

“Oh, as you please! I shall not die of curiosity!”