‘And where, pray, did you meet Lucian Damerel at any time?’ she inquired. ‘He was unknown, or just beginning to be known, when you left England.’ ‘It is ten years since I met him,’ answered Saxonstowe. ‘It was when I was staying at Saxonstowe with my uncle. I met Damerel at Simonstower, and the circumstances were rather amusing.’ He gave an account of the duel, which afforded Lady Firmanence much amusement, and he showed her the scar on his hand, and laughed as he related the story of Lucian’s terrible earnestness. ‘But I have never forgotten,’ he concluded, ‘how readily and sincerely he asked my forgiveness when he found that he had been in the wrong--it rather knocked me over, you know, because I didn’t quite understand that he really felt the thing--we were both such boys, and the girl was a child.’ ‘Oh, Lucian Damerel has good feeling,’ said Lady Firmanence. ‘You wouldn’t understand the Italian strain in him. But it is amusing that you should have fought over Haidee Brinklow, who is now Mrs. Lucian. I’m glad he married her, and that you didn’t.’ ‘Considering that I am to dine with Mr. and Mrs. Lucian Damerel to-morrow,’ said Saxonstowe, ‘it is a bit odd that I don’t know any more of them than this. She, I remember, was some connection of Lord Simonstower’s; but who is he?’ ‘Lucian Damerel? Oh, he was the son of Cyprian Damerel, an Italian artist who married the daughter of one of Simonstower’s tenants. Simonstower was at all times greatly interested in him, and it has always been my firm impression that it was he who sent the boy to Oxford. At any rate, when he died, which was just before Lucian Damerel came of age, Simonstower left him ten thousand pounds.’ ‘That was good,’ said Saxonstowe. ‘I don’t know,’ said Lady Firmanence. ‘It has always seemed to me from what I have seen of him--and I keep my eyes open on most things--that it would have been far better for that young man if fortune had dealt him a few sound kicks instead of so many halfpence. Depend upon it, Saxonstowe, it’s a bad thing for a man, and especially for a man of that temperament, to be pampered too much. Now, Lucian Damerel has been pampered all his life--I know a good deal about him, because I was constantly down at Saxonstowe during the last two or three years of your uncle’s life, and Saxonstowe, as you may remember, is close to Simonstower. I know how Lucian was petted and pampered by his own people, and by the parson and his daughter, and by the old lord. His way has always been made smooth for him--it would have done him good to find a few rough places here and there. He had far too much flattery poured upon him when his success came, and he has got used to expecting it, though indeed,’ concluded the old lady, laughing, ‘Heaven knows I’m wrong in saying “got used,” for Damerel’s one of the sort who take all the riches and luxuries of the world as their just due.’ ‘He seemed to me to be very simple and unaffected,’ said Saxonstowe.