"Mr. Ricaby? What—what did he say?" she demanded.
"He said it was a splendid idea—but you'd have to get your uncle's consent—or the consent of the court—or something. My advice is to marry first and ask consent afterward."
Paula was silent and thoughtful for a moment. Then she asked:
"Did Mr. Ricaby seemed pleased at the idea?"
"Well, not—not—exactly pleased. He didn't throw up his hat and dance a hornpipe, but he congratulated me on having such a fortunate son."
The young girl stared at her landlady as if dumbfounded.
"What!" she cried, "did you tell Mr. Ricaby that your son—what did he say?"
"I said that Harry loved you and would make you a good husband," replied the mother proudly.
"How did you dispose of me in the matter?" smiled the girl.
Mrs. Parkes seemed embarrassed for an answer. Hesitatingly she answered: