Mrs. Clifton turned to her brother-in-law, and said, inquiringly, “You know the cause of this lovers’ quarrel?”
“Of course I do, madam! Satan fly away with them both! I know all about it! It was about her—up stairs!” he replied, indicating Kate Kavanagh by a crook of his thumb.
“Yes; it was about Kate. But it was very absurd!”
“Now, I don’t know that ma’am!”
“But it certainly was—ridiculous! Mr. Clifton! she, Catherine, knows nothing about it! Does not even dream that she herself had the remotest connection with the quarrel, and I do hope and trust, that she never may suspect it. What I wish to say to you, is plainly this: That I know enough of human nature generally, and of young people particularly, and of Archer and Carolyn individually, to feel sure that this very absurd and extremely inconvenient quarrel and separation—”
“Yes, very extremely inconvenient, indeed!” emphatically interrupted the old man.
“Is only temporary—”
“Yes, ma’am, but that don’t make it the less embarrassing—the less inconvenient!”
“I know it! Hear me out!”
“What the deuce, ma’am, are we to do with the people who are coming to the wedding even now?”