Mrs. Delarayne and Agatha, followed by Wilmott, went back to the house, and, as they went, the maid explained that it was a wonder Miss Cleopatra had not killed herself, as her head "was quite close up against the fender."
That evening, on the terrace of Brineweald Park, where the whole party had dined, Mrs. Delarayne and Sir Joseph sat solemnly talking.
"You will have to do something, Joseph," the widow was saying. "He's certainly in your power. Convey to him by some means that he cannot play fast and loose in this way. He accepted the rise of two hundred on the understanding that he would marry."
"Well, my dear Edith, I can't exactly make him marry, can I?" Sir Joseph protested.
"But he has not even proposed yet!" the lady cried.
Sir Joseph grunted.
"Instead, if you please, he is making a fool of himself with Leo, and turning her into an insufferable little prig."
"Not really!"
"Really!"