In contrast to his own cloudy visage, the face of Mr. Hal Tanneur who burst in upon him was radiant.
"We've got it, governor," he chuckled and waved a paper. "Saw old Middleton——"
"What, what, what?" snapped his parent.
"64—all that desirable property," quoted the young man. "Old Middleton was a bit shy of parting. Said the Duke promised to be a useful tenant. I offered £800, wouldn't take it, offered £900, wouldn't look at it, got it for £1,050."
"Good boy," commended his father, and grew more cheerful. "At any rate," he said, "we can clear this bounder out of the neighbourhood: what about Alicia?"
Hal frowned terribly.
"I've done my best to show her what a silly step she's taking. Had a little talk with her——"
"Tact—I hope you used tact. Tact is everything in business," warned Sir Harry.
"Rather!" said the other complacently, "I think I know a little about handling women. I got her on her tenderest side. I pointed out people would say she was marrying for a title, showed her how these mixed marriages never turned out well. As I said, 'My dear Alicia, you know nothing absolutely about this chap except what he tells you himself, the chances are that he's married already.'"
"That was right," approved his father.