“Oh, no, I have no plans. I like Dana very well. She’s a jolly enough girl.”
“Then that’s settled, sir; only just bear it in mind, and don’t let Burwood be stuffing her head full of nonsensical ideas. Some girls would be attracted at once by the prospect of becoming ‘my lady,’ but Dana is too shrewd.”
“Almost a pity that the girls have no brother,” said Alison carelessly.
“Why, sir?” said his father sharply.
“Because then he could have married little Isabel, and completed the combination,” said Alison, looking meaningly at his sister.
“Don’t be an ass, boy. Hallo! Who’s this?” cried Mr Elthorne, turning sharply in his chair as a bell rang.
“Only Beck, father. I asked him to come with us.” Mr Elthorne turned upon his son mute with anger and annoyance; hence he did not notice the bright look and increase of colour in his daughter’s face. “You asked him to come over—this morning?”
“Yes, father. Poor beggar, he only has a few more days before he sails for China, and I thought it would be neighbourly. Old Beck is always very nice to me.”
“Oh, very well,” said Mr Elthorne abruptly; and Isabel uttered a low sigh of relief as she busied herself over her aunt’s cup, suddenly displaying great anxiety that the placid looking lady should have some more coffee.
“Better ask him in to breakfast, Al,” said Mr Elthorne.