"Tallow chandlers," he said, "can be very agreeable people; but I understand your aunt's prejudice, my dear Miss Mildmay——"
"And I cannot," said Violet, with quiet gravity. "My father," and her voice lowered softly, "must have bought tallow when he traded with Russia, as I have heard, and I cannot see much difference between buying it in the first instance and melting it in the second."
"There is a difference," said the captain, softly. "But, putting the question aside, I thought the Dodsons extremely nice people, and Mr. Leicester Dodson a well-informed person."
Violet looked at her plate. She did not echo the captain's praise or qualify it, so one could not tell whether she thought Mr. Leicester clever or not.
"Violet made their acquaintance in quite a romantic fashion," said Mrs. Mildmay, harping upon the subject, and she proceeded to recount the adventure of the parasol upon the cliffs.
While they were talking, Violet, who was facing the window which overlooked the lawn, saw the tall, graceful figure of Leicester Dodson sauntering up the path toward the house, in the indolent way which distinguished him.
"There is Mr. Dodson," she said. "I'll tap at the window; he may as well come in this way as walk up to the front."
And so she tapped.
Mr. Leicester looked over the whole of the house, as usual, before settling upon the right window, then, when he did, he lifted his hat, with a grave smile that was also a very pleased one, and came across the lawn.
"Will you consent to make such an undignified entry?" said Violet.