"Maude? What does she know about it? Tony, you are talking riddles. I can't understand you in the least."
"Oh, Maude knows. So does my father. But he doesn't say those insulting things. He says I have made a wise choice—as I know I have—and has given us his consent and blessing in advance. Do you understand now?"
She understood, and was momentarily stunned. Not Lady Louisa, after all, but this little no-account tea-room girl! It was a heavy shock. She dropped into a chair, flung herself back in it, and ejaculated, "Well!"—adding with a long breath, "And she never gave me the least hint of it all this time!"
"She couldn't very well, seeing that she hasn't the faintest idea of such a thing herself—to the best of my knowledge."
"Then"—eagerly—"you have not spoken yet?"
"I am going to speak as soon as I can find her. And you are not going to prevent me, though you may think you are."
He poured out some whisky, and began to survey the dishes on the table. He was very angry, and consequently calm.
"Where's Harry?" he inquired. "I ordered the new buggy yesterday. I want to tell him about it. Harry, where are you?"
Harry came in, sheepish, but blustering, and was delighted to go into the buggy question without delay. They sat down to supper, and the men discussed business matters throughout the meal. Then Mr. Oxenham faint-heartedly proposed a smoke.
"No, thank you," said Anthony. "I'm off to bed. Same room, Mary?"