Lord Meadshire accepted a glass of champagne. It was a festive occasion, and he loved festive occasions of all sorts. Everybody in the room came up and talked to him, and he was pleased to talk to everybody and said the right thing to each. But presently he found the opportunity of a word apart with the Squire.
"So you've given in, Edward—eh, what?" he remarked, with a mischievous look in his old face, and before he could be answered, said, more seriously, "Well, you were right to stick out if you thought it wouldn't do—to stick out as long as you could—but you must be glad all the bother's over now, and I feel sure you'll come to think it isn't so bad as you thought it would be. Come now, weren't all the rest of us right? Isn't she a dear creature?"
"I haven't given in," said the Squire shortly. "I don't know yet what I'm going to do. Of course, if Dick has made up his mind, I'm not going to keep him at arm's length all the rest of my life, however much I may object to what he's doing. That's why he's here, and why she's here."
"Ah!" said Lord Meadshire wisely. "That's the way to talk. When you say that you're nearly at the end of your troubles."
As he drove off a little later with Lady Kemsale he told her that Edward was conquered, although he wouldn't acknowledge it. "He's an obstinate fellow," said Lord Meadshire, "and from what Nina told me I should say that he's having hard work to hold out against the dear lady. Well, she's only got to keep on being herself and he'll be at her feet like all the rest of us."
"Dear papa," said Lady Kemsale, "Lady George has bewitched you."
"My dear," said Lord Meadshire, "I admit it fully. And if she can bewitch me she can bewitch Edward. She's half-way on the road already."