It was not often that she either took the time to examine him, or had it, for Lord Westbury had the habit of residing in London, while she passed the year at his country seat. Just now, he was perusing the newspaper he favoured instead of obliging her with a game of whist; but as usual he had managed to turn down her invitation to play in such a manner as to get what he wanted while making his refusal seem the greatest compliment to her. Ordinarily his skillful manner when dealing with her would have annoyed Lady Westbury immensely, but tonight she reflected that it was fortunate he had such address. Without exaggerating, she could tell herself that he was a credit to the Nortons in many ways. His face, for a gentleman of thirty who had lived for no other reason than to please himself, was remarkably free from signs of dissipation. Some, his mother conceded, might even call it handsome. His dark good looks had come from her family, of course, for the Nortons were never known for their beauty.
