“You believed the girl—Miss Burden?” said Amber in a tone that suggested suspicion.
Josephine laughed and patted her hand.
“He came into the room while we were together,” she said.
“Oh!”
“He had not been to see me since Tuesday, and to-day is Saturday; he thought it better on the whole to let me get accustomed to the situation which was the natural sequel to the announcement in the papers. But he came to-day. He met the other girl—one of the other girls—face to face. You never saw anything so funny. For a moment I thought that he would make the attempt to strangle her as the villain on the stage does. But he did nothing of the sort. ‘I have just been telling Miss West that the day you marry her, I shall bring up an action against you and give the leader writers of the Opposition a chance of showing off their cleverness in dealing with the case of Burden v. Clifton,’ said she quite nicely. And he was dumb—absolutely dumb! ‘But Miss West has too high a regard for Mr. Clifton to precipitate such an event,’ said I, and then my father came into the room.”
“More comedy!”
“I felt equal to playing my rôle. He looked from me to Mr. Clifton, and from Mr. Clifton to Miss Burden. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I forgot that you don’t know Miss Burden, papa. This is my father, Miss Burden. Miss Burden is the young lady whom Mr. Clifton promised to marry four years ago. It is a nice question, and one which no doubt will have to be decided in a Court of law, but it really seems to me that he is still engaged to marry Miss Burden. But of course there were other girls and other secret engagements.’”
“You said that? How neat! And your father?”
“He said ‘Don’t be a fool, Josephine. What nonsense is this, Clifton?’ ‘I think I should like five minutes alone with Miss Burden; I think I could bring her to see that nothing would be gained by——’ ‘I do not want such an interview with you,’ said Miss Burden. ‘I am here and if Mr. West wishes to ask me any question—Mr. West or Miss West—I shall answer it in your presence, Ernest.’ I pitied my father—I really did. ‘Clifton,’ said he, ‘do you mean to tell me that you were not a free man when you made your proposal to my daughter?’ ‘A free man? that girl is a fool—an utter fool!’ said Mr. Clifton. ‘Good heavens! Because a man happens—psha! it was four years ago. There is nothing criminal in the business!’ ‘Oh, no,’ said I, ‘nothing criminal—only ridiculous; but for my part I have no intention of allowing my name to be associated with the brackets in the newspaper reports enclosing the words “Great laughter in the court,” and I cannot believe that my father anticipates such a destiny for me.’ Then my father did a foolish thing. He said, ‘Madam, what damages do you hope for in this matter? Do you fancy that any jury would award you more than a thousand pounds? That would be ridiculous. But at the same time—I have my cheque-book here—supposing we say fifteen hundred pounds?’”
“He fancied that she would take it? Was he deceived by the ospreys in her Parma-violet hat, do you think?”