'Do not call me little boy,' he said, but not in an unkind tone; 'call
me by my name.'
'What is your name?'
'Lord Cadurcis; but you may call me by my Christian name, because I
like you.'
'What is your Christian name?'
'Plantagenet.'
'Plantagenet! What a long name!' said Venetia. 'Tell me then,
Plantagenet, what is a row?'
'What often takes place between me and my mother, but which I am sorry
now has happened here, for I like this place, and should like to come
often. A row is a quarrel.'
'A quarrel! What! do you quarrel with your mamma?'
'Often.'
'Why, then, you are not a good boy.'
'Ah! my mamma is not like yours,' said the little lord, with a sigh.
'It is not my fault. But now I want to make it up; how shall I do it?'
'Go and give her a kiss.'
'Poh! that is not the way.'
'Shall I go and ask my mamma what is best to do?' said Venetia;
and she stole away on tiptoe, and whispered to Lady Annabel that
Plantagenet wanted her. Her mother came forward and invited Lord
Cadurcis to walk on the terrace with her, leaving Venetia to amuse her
other guest.
Lady Annabel, though kind, was frank and firm in her unexpected
confidential interview with her new friend. She placed before him
clearly the enormity of his conduct, which no provocation could
justify; it was a violation of divine law, as well as human propriety.
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