"No. She's too decent a girl. You will be a lucky man if you win her. Lord knows what she can see in you, Weston. You're not handsome, not entertaining, and your mind generally floats in the clouds with your blessed airship."
Weston laughed, in no wise offended. "I'll tell you what," he said after a pause, "I'll wire Cannington asking him to bring his sister down here when they return to England."
"Won't a letter do? Why are you in such a hurry?"
"I haven't time to write a letter," confessed Weston candidly, "a wire is just as good, if more expensive. But if they come down I can then show Mabel the airship and ask her to use it with me for the honeymoon. She can't mistake that offer."
"It's an odd one, but she certainly can't," I answered laughing.
The consequence of this conversation was that Weston sent his telegram, and then promptly forgot all about it in the interest of his infernal aerial tramp. Cannington did not reply, so I wrote him a long letter, detailing my conversation with the inventor, and pointing out that Lady Mabel was the dream of the little man's life. So she was, in a way, although Weston had a queer method of showing it. My letter crossed another one from Cannington, and I learned that the party had returned to England sooner than was expected. Thus Weston's wire to Florence had not reached Lady Mabel. I posted another explanation to Cannington, and Weston, during the course of the week before Christmas, received a hasty note from the boy, saying that he was bringing down his sister to see--me. This made Dicky furious.
"Good Lord!" he grumbled, "are you in love with Mabel?"
"Considering that I have introduced you to my future wife, how can I be?"
"Then why does Cannington bring her to see you, confound you?"
"Because you have behaved badly to his sister."