It has been remarked by writers tinged with cynicism that a widow who wishes to remarry is generally able to do a large part of whatever wooing is necessary. In the present case, where the lady had frankly avowed her intention of doing the whole, there was no reason why the culmination should be long delayed. One day soon after the interview between Mrs. Neligage and her son, the widow and Harry Bradish were at the County Club when they chanced to come into the parlor just in time to discover May Calthorpe and Dick Fairfield, when the lover was kissing his lady's hand. Mrs. Neligage was entirely equal to the situation.
"Yes, Mr. Bradish," she observed, looking upward, "you were right, this ceiling is very ugly."
"I didn't say anything about the ceiling," he returned, gazing up in amazement, while Dick and May slipped out at another door.
She turned to him with a countenance of mischief.
"Then you should have said it, stupid!" she exclaimed. "Didn't you see Dick and May?"
"I saw them go out. What of it?"
"Really, Harry," she said, falling into the name which she had called him in her girlhood, "you should have your wits about you when you stumble on young lovers in a sentimental attitude."
"I didn't see what they were doing. I was behind you."
"Oh, he had her hand," explained she, extending hers.
Bradish took it shyly, looking confused and mystified. The widow laughed in his face.