And the mother, buxom, simple, and adoring, glanced appealingly with bright eyes at the man who for her epitomized the majesty and perfections of his sex.
'He will be Henry Knight,' the father persisted, rather coldly.
But Mrs. Knight shook her head.
Then Aunt Annie came into the room, pushing Tom before her. Tom was magnificently uncomfortable in his best clothes.
'What's the matter, Sue?' Aunt Annie demanded, as soon as she had noticed her sister's face.
And in a moment, in the fraction of a second, and solely by reason of Aunt Annie's question, the situation became serious. It jumped up, as domestic situations sometimes do, suddenly to the temperature at which thunderstorms are probable. It grew close, heavy, and perilous.
Mrs. Knight shook her head again. 'Nothing,' she managed to reply.
'Susan wants——' Mr. Knight began suavely to explain.
'He keeps on saying he would like him to be called——' Mrs. Knight burst out.