Bring that fellow Fielding
and his daughter round to my place before they go."
Lord Runton laughed heartily.
"Is it a case?" he exclaimed. "And you, our show bachelor, too! Never
mind my chaff, old chap. She's a ripping good-looking girl, and money
enough to buy the country."
"I don't mind your chaff," Duncombe answered, "but will you bring her?"
Lord Runton looked thoughtful.
"How the dickens can I? We are all shooting at the Duke's to-morrow, and
I believe they're off on Saturday. You're not in earnest by any chance,
are you, George?"
"Damnably!" he answered.
Lord Runton whistled softly.
"Fielding doesn't shoot," he remarked, "but they're going with us to
Beaumanor. Shall I drop him a hint? He might stay a day longer--just to
make a few inquiries about you on the spot, you know."
"Get him to stay a day longer, if you can," Duncombe answered, "but
don't give me away. The old chap's none too cordial as it is."
"I must talk to him," Runton said. "Your Baronetcy is a thundering sight
better than any of these mushroom peerages. He probably doesn't
understand that sort of thing. But what about the girl? Old Von Rothe
has been making the running pretty strong, you know.
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