"Oh, it's all deuced fine for you to talk about 'my poor old Paul,' and all that, but you don't know the party, or even you would be warmed into something like life!"
"Hem!" growled Wainwright, "I don't know about that; though, as you say, I am a little more exacting in my requirements than you. Does she spell Paul with a 'w,' or with a little 'p'?"
"She spells and writes like a lady as she is. What an ass I am to get into a rage! Look here, George, I can't stand this much longer. I must get back to her. It's no good my fooling my time away down here. My mother has brought me down to propose for Annette, and I shall have to tell her perfectly plainly that it can't be done."
"That's why you sent for me," said George Wainwright; "to tell me that you had fully made up your mind in the matter on which you brought me down here to consult me, eh?"
"No, not at all. I wanted to consult you, my dear old man, my best and dearest of old boys; but, you see, the scenes have shifted a little since I wrote. I've seen more of Annette, and seen more plainly that she does not like me, and I don't care for her; and I've had a letter from town which makes me think that the sooner I am back with Daisy, the better."
"With Daisy? that's her name, is it?"
"That's her pet name with me, and---- What, mooning again, eh?"
"No, I wasn't. I was merely thinking about---- Who was that elderly woman who came to the drawing-room door last night and told Miss Derinzy it was bed-time?"
"Oh, that was Annette's servant, who is specially devoted to her--Mrs. Stothard."
"Mrs. Stothard--Miss Derinzy's maid?"