“I—I don’t care what I do to post you up in my circumstances—it’s all perfectly square, I assure you. And Miss Palmer allows me to hope.”
“I see no reason why you should not apply to Miss Palmer’s uncle and trustee,” said Guy, after a little more had passed.
“Yes; but I’m told you have great influence with her mamma!” said the young American, wistfully.
“I didn’t know it,” said Guy; but he met the stranger’s eyes, and they both laughed. “Won’t you have some breakfast? Staunton, this is a friend of Mrs Palmer’s, Mr Van Brunt. Have you ordered coffee?”
Mr Van Brunt swept up his papers, and sat cheerfully down, proceeding to make himself very agreeable. The other little tables filled. Jeanie and her mother sat at one some way off. Constancy, with her friends, watched curiously, till the stranger, as soon as he politely could, edged off towards the object of his attraction.
“Eh what?” said Staunton, as the grave Guy for once went off into a hearty fit of laughter.
“Oh, I say!” he said; “it was quite outfacing. Fancy playing heavy father to Jeanie! I’d better wire to Godfrey at once.”
The energetic American produced a Continental Bradshaw, and proposed to start that afternoon to interview Mr Matthew. First, however, he went to walk with Jeanie.
And poor Cousin Susan, wiping her eyes, and with a heart full of feelings, of which the young ones took little enough heed, exclaimed, as she finally yielded the point—
“Oh, Guy, dear aunt would have thought me so weak. Chicago!”