Napier took refuge in a rapid survey of Julian's character and advantages.
"Do you know," she broke in, "you're talking to me about Mr. Grant as if you were recommending a chauffeur. He belongs, I gather, to a reputable family; he's steady; he was a long time in his last place; sober, very, very sober! But I really don't need any testimonials to Mr. Grant's character," she wound up under her breath, as that young man emerged gloomily from the room at the bottom of the hall.
"I say, there are millions of coats here."
"Oh, very well, I'll come."
He had been an ass! The sole gain, as Napier saw it, out of a rather ridiculous encounter was to establish the fact of the girl's sensitiveness for Julian's dignity.
For Sir William, the Kirklamont charm worked well. Again the next morning he slept late. There was in consequence rather more bustle than usual attendant on his departure. Nan Ellis had rushed over early to say good-by. It struck Napier that she was both grave and excited. She joined him for an instant at the table, where he stood putting some papers into the despatch box.
"Do you want me to?" she asked in a low voice, as though continuing a conversation.
"To—"
"Yes, to marry Julian." Then, quick as the darting of a dragon-fly, she pounced on his possible answer. "I sha'n't do it—not even for you. But if that's what you want, I'd just like to know." She waited. Napier, too, for once in his life tongue-tied.