"Yes, she is his niece. I knew her as a child, a giddy little thing—rather like Nick himself."
"Mrs. Musgrave! Is that how you describe one of our most celebrated heroes? Nick Ratcliffe—the one and only—the most romantic specimen of our modern British chivalry—beloved of women like yourself, respected by men like me! Did I hear aright?"
She laughed. "Oh, don't be absurd! He is the least imposing person in the world, I assure you."
"And the lady, his niece?" questioned Noel. "Is she married by the way?"
"Oh, no. She is quite a girl."
"A real live girl in this wilderness!" ejaculated Noel. "I say, may I drop in a little later and see her? Dear Mrs. Musgrave, say Yes!" He stooped and gallantly kissed her hand. "As your daughter's fiancé, I think you might ask me to dine. I'll be so awfully good if you will. I say, Peggy, ask Mummy to invite me to dinner to-night, and I'll come and say good-night to you in bed."
"Oh, yes!" cried Peggy, jumping with eagerness. "He may come, mayn't he, Mummy? And I'll save up my prayers," she added to Noel, "and say them to you!"
"Hear, hear!" said Noel. "Come, Mrs. Musgrave, you haven't the heart to refuse me such an innocent pleasure as that. I'm sure you haven't, so thank you kindly, I'll come. Shall I?"
"Of course you are quite irresistible," said Mrs. Musgrave. "But I don't—really—think it would be very kind of me to have guests on their first night. The poor child is sure to be too tired for chatter."
"But I shan't chatter," protested Noel. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse. Come, Mrs. Musgrave, don't be cruel! Remember you're dealing with your future son-in-law, who is absolutely devoted to you; and don't refuse me the only favour I've ever asked!"