“I wish it were!” But Jock would not be satisfied without getting a Prayer-book, to look at the table of degrees.
“He is really her third cousin, I believe,” said his mother, “and I’m afraid that is not prohibited.”
“Is he a ship’s steward?” said Jock, looking at the card with infinite disgust.
“A paymaster’s assistant, I believe.”
“That would be too much. Besides, there’s the Scot!”
“I don’t think much of that,” said Jock. “The mother and sister are keen for it, but Clanmacnalty is in no haste to marry, and by all accounts the Elf carries on promiscuously with three or four at once.”
“And she has no fine instinct for a gentleman,” added Bobus. “It is who will spread the butter thickest!”
“A bad look out for Belforest,” said Jock.
“It can’t be much worse than it has been with me,” said his mother.
“That’s what that little ass, Armine, has been presuming to din into your ears,” said Bobus; “as if the old women didn’t prefer beef and blankets to your coming poking piety at the poor old parties.”