"Do you expect many more visitors like that to-day, Aunt William?"
"None like that."
"Well, while you're alone I've got some news to tell you. Sylvia would have come herself, but she's engaged—this afternoon."
"Not engaged to be married, I suppose!" said Aunt William, with a sort of triumphal archness.
"Yes, you've hit it in once. At least, up to a certain point. It'll be all right. But the Governor's a bit nasty—and the fact is, we want you to come and see him, and sort of talk him over, you know."
"Savile! Do you mean it? How charming!... But who's the young man—and what's the objection?"
Savile thought a moment, and remembered her tinge of snobbishness. "He's Sir Bryce Woodville's nephew. Chap who died. I mean, the uncle died. It's Woodville, you know!"
"Your father's secretary?"
"Yes, and a rattling good chap, too. Sylvia's liked him for ages, and he didn't like to come up to the scratch because he was hard up. Now something's turned up. Old Ridokanaki's written him a letter—wants him to go into his bank. He'll have three thousand a year. It's only habit with the Governor to pretend to mind. But a few words with you will settle it. I'll tell you more about it later on."
"I am amazed at the news, Savile. He's a very fine young man, but——"