"She must, then, be one of the General's family?"
"Not that either. Her only relative, that I know, is a Miss Baker."
"Miss Baker!" said Harcourt; and the tone of his voice was not encouraging.
"Yes, Miss Baker," said Bertram; and the tone of his voice was hardly conciliatory.
"Oh—ah—yes. I don't exactly think I know her. Miss Baker!"
"It would be odd if you did, for she lives at Littlebath, and hardly ever comes to town. When she does, she stays down at Hadley with my uncle."
"Oh—h! That's a horse of another colour. I beg your pardon entirely, my dear fellow. Why did you not tell me at first that this is a match of your uncle's making?"
"My uncle's making! It is not a match of my uncle's making."
"Well, well; one that he approves. I hardly gave you credit for so much prudence. That will be as good as having everything settled exactly as you could wish it."
"You are giving me a great deal too much credit," said Bertram, laughing. "My uncle knows nothing about my marriage, and I have not the slightest idea of consulting him. I should think it mean to do so, considering everything."