– Thank you, John. I'll see her later," Anthony answered the footman indifferently; he had no time to talk to his mother, and the only thing he wanted at the moment was to retire to his chambers, close the dark curtains, take off his ruined suit, lie down in his wide bed, and sleep until dinner.

– Lady Cranford wishes to see you immediately, sir," added footman John cautiously.

This phrase made Anthony feel irritated: was his mother, after all, determined to show her authority and give him, her son, an order? After all, it was an explicit, not at all veiled order, and this fact made the young man think that it would not be time for him to move out and thus get rid of his mother's insistent care?

But Anthony could not offend his mother: he respected her too much and appreciated everything she did for him.

Lady Cranford could have thrown her son out of Greenhall, for he was a grown man in his own right, but instead she rejoiced at his constant presence in the house, and paid his bills, which were not insignificant, for Anthony was fond of amusements of all kinds, hunting, and expensive, tailored suits and shoes. In addition, between mother and son since his birth established a warm affectionate relationship. So this time the young gentleman was ready to forgive his mother her order and obediently went to the place where he was expected.

The study in which Lady Cranford spent six hours every day was on the third floor, at the end of a long, bright corridor. Like the rest of the house, the Dowager Countess's study was cold, bright, and decorated with a pair of marble statues. Here the mistress of the house personally dealt with economic affairs, reconciling accounts, reading books and writing letters. She was a clever woman, and she held the reins of Greenhall in her own hands alone, needing neither counsellors nor secretaries.

– Good afternoon, mother," Anthony said, entering the study without knocking.

– Good afternoon, my dear," Lady Cranford answered him with a smile. – 'Do sit down. You don't look well.

The Countess had been counting the money she had spent on the house for the past month, but she put aside her papers and gestured to a chair against one of the walls.

– You are quite right, Mother, and I am very tired, and perhaps I shall fall asleep right here in your study, at your desk," Anthony grinned, and picked up the chair indicated to him and placed it opposite his mother's black lacquered desk.

– You need a drink of water. I'll call the servants right away…" Lady Cranford began, feeling somewhat guilty for not allowing Anthony to rest after a hard night's work. But this time her heart obeyed reason: no matter how tired her favourite son was, she was not going to postpone a serious conversation about his future.

– Thank you, it is not necessary," Anthony interrupted her insistently, wishing to hear a sermon or a reprimand as soon as possible, and then to shut himself up in his chamber and go to sleep. – You ordered me to come, and here I am. I am listening to you, mother.

Her son's cold tone did not embarrass the Countess. She folded her hands on her stomach, leaned back slightly in her chair and said:

– 'I think it's time we clarified the situation, my dear.

– What situation? – Anthony was sincerely surprised.

– Your future depends only on you. I hope you remember that a beneficial marriage....

– …this is my only chance for a trouble-free future, for I'm not fit for the army or anything else," young Cranford interrupted his mother in a bored tone.

"Why has she started up this conversation again?" – he thought with a faint smile.

– 'I'm glad you remember that. – The smile on Lady Cranford's face faded. – 'But you seem to take your reputation too lightly.

– My reputation? – Her son raised his eyebrows.

– Exactly, my dear. I can well understand your youthful ardour, but a taste for amusements of this kind, and you know what amusements I mean, may destroy any hope of your marrying a rich girl. No father wants a husband for his daughter who spends his time with corrupt women and comes home tired and looking like he's been drinking bottle after bottle of whiskey all night. Believe me, I know what I'm saying.

– How will my sweet wife know about my nightly amusements?

– London, my dear, is not such a big city. There are already rumours about you and your friends. And those rumours were brought to me by none other than Viscount Willoughby.

– How did old Wiloby know about this? – Young Cranford asked unhappily: it was not pleasant news.

– How should I know? I'm just stating a fact. It's time you grew up, Anthony. You should marry a rich girl. A rich girl, my son. – Lady Cranford looked gravely at her son, and there was not a shadow of a smile on her face. – Now confess to me: are you in love with Vivian?

Hearing such an unexpected question from his mother's lips, Anthony smiled sarcastically and tilted his head to the side.

– Am I in love with Vivian? – He repeated with a merry chuckle.

– I want the truth. I will not tolerate lies," said his mother, with pressure.

– My dear mother, what made you believe that I had fallen in love with my cousin? – laughed the young man a beautiful velvet laugh.

– I am not blind, my dear, and I can see how much you admire her," Lady Cranford said quietly. Her son's laughing response to her question confused her: was he laughing? Was her suspicion so misplaced that it made Anthony laugh?

– Vivian is beautiful, Mother, and not even you can deny it. I am a man, after all, and I appreciate a woman's beauty. My admiration for her is a natural thing, and besides, I have never met such beauties in my life. Before I met her, the French rose, Mademoiselle de Croix, was the ideal of all men and the envy of many women in our society, but when Vivian goes out into the world, the poor French beauty will have to yield her pedestal," Anthony explained patiently.

But how he was lying! The image of Vivian haunted him even when he was amusing himself with corrupt women! But young Cranford realised that to tell his mother the truth would be a great mistake, and one that would hurt his unsuspecting young cousin in the first place.

"Could Vivian love me? When I converse with her, she is embarrassed, and her cheeks are covered with a delightful blush… How do I know what thoughts lurk in her fiery-haired head? But soon she'll make her debut, and she'll be followed by dozens of admirers. Will she remember me if her attention and hands are sought…" – Anthony thought involuntarily, as he was suddenly interrupted by his mother's displeased voice:

– What are you thinking about, my dear?

He looked at his mother: she was looking at his face carefully, as if she were trying to read her son's thoughts.

– Mother, I assure you, you need not worry. Vivian is beautiful and sweet, but I do not wish to live my life in poverty. Besides, I have only brotherly feelings and pity for her. Soon she will marry well, and I will marry well, and you will realise how unfair your words were. – Anthony rose to his feet. – And, believe me, you ought not to talk to me again on the subject. But I'm terribly tired and would like to take a nap.

– Of course, my dear. Go on. But promise me that this night of alcohol and debauchery will be your last. – The Countess rose from her chair too. – My boy, everything I do, I do for you.

– I know, Mother. I thank you for opening my eyes to this embarrassing situation. – Anthony made a slight bow to his mother, left the study and hurried to his chambers.

As he walked down the long, bright corridor, young Cranford chuckled a little: did his mother really think he was willing to sacrifice his prosperous future for a penniless, albeit beautiful as an angel, cousin?