"Violet, it is really too bad," said he, as she entered. "Have you read the Home Secretary's speech at Manchester? He says—let me see, where is it?"
"Dear Bob," said his wife, "whatever he said, you would quite certainly disagree with it. But never mind showing it me this minute. I want your advice about another matter."
A faint smile came over Lord Oxted's thin, sharp face; he usually smiled when his wife came to him for advice. He put down his paper and crossed one leg over the other.
"What sort of advice?" he asked. "Be far more explicit before you consult me. Do you want to tell me of some decision you have made, and wish me to agree with you, or is it possible that you have not yet made your decision? It is as well to know, Violet, and it may save me from misunderstanding you."
Lady Oxted laughed.
"I am not yet sure which it is," she said. "Let me tell you my story, and by that time, you see, I may have made up my mind, in which case I shall want the first sort of advice; but if I have not, the second."
"That sounds fair," he assented.
In a few words she told him all that had passed between her and Evie.
"And now," she concluded, "am I to promise or not?"