Percy Levant looked from one side to the other.
“You—you have been listening?” he said.
Mr. Spenser Churchill looked very much shocked.
“My dear Percy, what a dreadful charge! Listening? Certainly not! Seeing you—er—immersed in each other’s conversation, I took a little stroll, and waited until the interview had come to a close.”
Percy Levant leaned against the tree with his arms folded, his head bent upon his breast, but his eyes still fixed upon the other man’s. His face was pale, and there were great drops of sweat upon his brow.
“And how goes our little arrangement, my dear Percy? Am I to congratulate you? Though I didn’t listen, as you so cruelly suggested, I gathered that your suit was meeting with a favorable reception. Did my judgment play me false, or has Miss Marlowe accepted you?”
The younger man remained silent for a moment; then he said, almost inaudibly:
“She—accepted me.”
Spenser Churchill nodded with a smile of satisfaction.
“Capital! I congratulate you, my dear Percy. I congrat——”