no-one could have less of the pompous, fatuous vanity of the Don Juan,
beauty had always played, and always would play, a very prominent part
in his life. It was, in fact, without exception, his greatest pleasure,
and interest--even passion. The temperament that gave to beauty and
charm a rather inordinate value had, no doubt, descended to his nephew.
But Cecil was, in that as in everything else, much less of a dilettante.

'You actually want me to advise you to persuade Mrs Raymond to marry
you? My dear boy, how can I?'

'How is it you don't say she's quite right not to?' asked Cecil
curiously.

'From her point of view I think she's quite wrong. As you're both
practically free and you would marry her tomorrow--or this afternoon for
choice--if she cared for you she would probably do it. Where I think
she's wrong is in not caring for you.... Who is it?'

'I don't believe it's anyone. Eugenia's peculiar; she's very
independent, very fantastic. She likes to do whatever comes into her
head. She's very fascinating ... but I shouldn't be at all surprised if
she's absolutely cold; I mean, really never could care for any man
at all.'

'I _should_ like to see her,' repeated Lord Selsey, his eyes
brightening.

'It's most awfully good of you, Uncle, the way you take it. I mean to
say, I'm afraid I'm not at all asking your consent, you know, or
anything of that sort, as I ought.'