"Open it!" he said. "Don't mind me!" and stumped irately to the bay-window and pulled aside the blind.
Maud opened the note. Her hands were not very steady. The envelope contained a half-sheet of notepaper with a few words scrawled thereupon, and a short length of string.
"Sorry to trouble you," ran the note. "But will you tie a knot in the enclosed to show me the size of your wedding finger? Yours, Jake."
She looked up from the note as her uncle came tramping back. "Is it the young man himself?" he demanded.
"It's Mr. Bolton, sir," said the landlady.
"Then show him in!" ordered the old man autocratically. "Show him in, and we'll get it over! No time like the present."
A swift remonstrance rose to Maud's lips, but she did not utter it. The landlady looked to her for confirmation of the order, but she did not utter a single word.
"Get along!" commanded Uncle Edward. "Or I'll fetch him in myself!"
A whiff of tobacco-smoke came in through the open door. Maud stood very still, listening. A moment later there came the sound of a pipe being tapped on the heel of a boot, and then the firm, quiet tread of Jake's feet in the passage.
He entered. "I didn't mean to disturb you again, but I'd forgotten this little detail and I've got to catch an early train." He turned with no sign of surprise and regarded Maud's visitor. "Good evening, sir!" he said.