"I want to go and see her—and I should like to tell her, if I dared, that there's not a man in the service to touch her. I don't mean her driving through Catsford—though she took a risk there; some of those chaps aren't mealy-mouthed. I mean what she's done about this little Miss Octon. That's what I like. Because the girl's her man's daughter, she snaps her fingers at the lot of us! That's what I like, Austin—that's why I want to go and see her. But I couldn't say that to the governor."
"You'll never be able to, any better. So you must consider your course. Is it—loyal—to your father?"
He knit his brows in perplexity and vexation. "Was I loyal to him that night we went to Hatcham Ford? You didn't make that objection then!"
"I don't think I should have taken any objection to anything that gave a chance then. I can look at this more coolly. Why not wait a little? Perhaps Lord Fillingford will come to the conclusion that bygones had best be bygones."
"And Aunt Sarah?"
"Is that quite so essential?"
He sat struggling between his scruples and his strong desire—loyalty to his father, admiration of Jenny and attraction toward her.
"I might manage to give her a hint of how you feel—and about the difficulty."
"That'd be better than nothing. Then she'd understand——?"
"She'd understand the whole position perfectly," I assured him.