Sit down," he said, and down Reggie sat.
He was by no means embarrassed, or afraid. His brother had stood to him in
place of a father since his own father had died when he was a boy at
school, but he lectured him as little as possible, and very rarely thwarted
him. "Get over it as quick as you can, Francis," was all he said.
"Did you meet Mr. Day going away as you came in?"
"Mr. Day? No."
"He has just left me. He came to tell me that you," he looked during a
moment's pause in Reggie's wide eyes, "were engaged to be married to his
daughter."
"Well! Come! That's a good 'un!" Reggie was surprised, his brother saw, but
not so satisfactorily taken aback as he had hoped.
"Is it so?"
"No."
"Then, what did the man mean by daring to say it to me?"
Reggie maintained an instant's quite undisconcerted silence; then, "You
see, she says it too," he said.
"She?"
"Bessie."
"Day's daughter? She must be stopped saying it."
"Oh, I don't know. Girls do say that sort of thing."
"I think not. Unless they are privileged to say it. Miss Day, you say, has
nothing to go upon?"
"Oh, well, you know!" Reggie sat back from the table, putting his hands in
his pockets, leaning in his chair at his ease, with the air of talking as
one man of the world to another.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45