Within six months they were
the acknowledged leaders of fashion and of style. Sir Percy's coats
were the talk of the town, his inanities were quoted, his foolish
laugh copied by the gilded youth at Almack's or the Mall. Everyone
knew that he was hopelessly stupid, but then that was scarcely to be
wondered at, seeing that all the Blakeneys for generations had been
notoriously dull, and that his mother died an imbecile.
Thus society accepted him, petted him, made much of him, since
his horses were the finest in the country, his FETES and wines the
most sought after. As for his marriage with "the cleverest woman in
Europe," well! the inevitable came with sure and rapid footsteps. No
one pitied him, since his fate was of his own making. There were
plenty of young ladies in England, of high birth and good looks, who
would have been quite willing to help him to spend the Blakeney
fortune, whilst smiling indulgently at his inanities and his
good-humoured foolishness. Moreover, Sir Percy got no pity, because
he seemed to require none--he seemed very proud of his clever wife,
and to care little that she took no pains to disguise that
good-natured contempt which she evidently felt for him, and that she
even amused herself by sharpening her ready wits at his expense.
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