Evelyn sprang back, flushing crimson. Hyland was standing in the doorway, with the most mischievously comical expression of countenance. The coolest of the three was the patient himself.
“No you haven’t,” said the latter. “Come in Hyland, and shut the door. Evelyn here has agreed to take me on for better or for worse—probably worse, I tell her. What d’you think of that?”
“Good old step-ma!” cried Hyland, seizing hold of Evelyn, and bestowing upon her cheeks a hearty kiss—Hyland was nothing if not boisterous. “I say dad, though, I’ve got a bit of news for you—and very much of the same sort. Edala’s gone and got engaged to that fellow Elvesdon. What d’you think of that?”
“Well, it doesn’t come upon me as a wild surprise. When did they put up that bargain?”
“Now. This afternoon; half an hour ago.”
“That’s odd, the coincidence I mean. So did we.”
Hyland whistled.
“My hat!” he exclaimed, “but it’s a rum world.”
”—And very much given to match-making,” supplied Thornhill complacently.