"My dear Toney! It's much better done by degrees, doesn't drain the property so much."
"We'll do it now, uncle, and all at once. You always say, 'make hay while the sun shines,' and that's what I am doing."
"Toney has been making hay with a vengeance to-day, Sir Evas," and Lewis told the history of the avant garde.
"My dear girl, the house will be besieged! You see, Lewis, what a mistake the General made," said Sir Evas laughing, "did your aunt—— Ehem—bear it well?"
Toney shook her head.
"It shan't happen again, uncle. We'll tabulate hard to-morrow. It all comes of tabulating! Now pretend you know nothing about it. Where ignorance is bliss. Good-bye, Mr. Waycott, and thank you awfully much. Now, Uncle Evas, we must quick trot home, it's Chum's last evening. Remember to be very nice and grateful to her. She's done a lot of hard work you know."
"So have we all, Toney! However, I'll compose a speech on the way home. Good night, Waycott, hope you don't want speeches."
Lewis surreptitiously watched them going off. It seemed like the last ray of evening sunshine disappearing in the woods. Why should he bother about the money? Why? Then he shook his head. Everyone would say he had married Toney's fifty thousand. His pride rebelled and even a perfectly clear conscience could not conquer it.
"There's a lovely moon so we shan't be benighted," said Toney, taking her uncle's arm.
"I say, Toney, we mustn't be late for dinner," he said walking quicker. He was trying to brace himself to hear the story of the avant garde, and this time he knew it would not be accompanied with laughter.