"'Prudently simple, providently wary,
To the world a Martha and to heaven a Mary.'
Annabel is a jewel among her sex."
"A wise man chooses his wife," said Malherb, "but it is denied him to choose his daughter. To-morrow, at any rate, we'll try and make the matter clear to her. I hate force. I am naturally a man of mild manners; yet this thick-headed world will never understand me until I clench my fist."
"One thing I must beg," interrupted Peter. "Don't surprise her. Don't suddenly appear before dear Grace. It would not be fair. I passed her chamber door yesterday, and by chance it stood ajar. She sat there busy with her needle; and the purpose to which she was putting it nearly startled me into an ejaculation. She does not know that I saw her. Candidly, I wish that I had not done so. There are sad secrets—'She loves a black-hair'd man.' In fact, there is somebody dearer to her than either you or I. What did I see? 'Sight hateful—sight tormenting!' Stars and stripes—stars and stripes—but all stripes to me. I'll swear each one has left a bruise upon my soul!"
"What, in God's name, are you ranting about?" cried Malherb impatiently. "Is everybody going mad, or have I already become so?"
"You must ask Gracie that question. I saw her enfolded in a mass of red, white, and blue bunting. There is nothing in that. Bunting may stand for joy.
"'The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the devil they got there.'
And I wondered the more since these coloured rags were taking upon themselves the likeness of the United States national flag. Now, what is that notable emblem doing under this roof? I would not deny my future wife any rational amusement, but——"
Peter stopped, for Maurice Malherb had hurried from him.
The father strode straightway to his daughter's room, found the door locked and kicked it open with a crash, to see Grace sitting beside her window half hidden under billows of bunting.