“Only to try and find him; for Harley’s and Hilton’s men have made a miserable failure of it all.”
Mrs Bolter sighed, but she made no opposition; and then further conversation was ended by the arrival of Grey Stuart with Hilton, both looking so satisfied and happy that Mrs Bolter exclaimed: “Why, whatever now!” The doctor chuckled, and cried: “Oh! that’s it, is it! Oh! Grey! I thought you meant to be a female old bachelor all your life!”
“I have persuaded her that it is folly,” said Hilton. “But I always thought it was to be Chumbley!” cried the doctor. “Here, I say, this is a horrible take-in.”
“I thought the same, doctor,” said Hilton, smiling; “and have been making myself very miserable about what is a misconception, though Grey here owns to thinking Chum the best and truest of men.”
“And I’m sure he is!” cried Mrs Doctor, enthusiastically.
“Here, I say!” cried the doctor, banging his hand down on the table, “this won’t do! Am I to sit and hear a man praised to my very face?”
“Yes,” said Mrs Bolter, quickly; “if it is Chumbley; and if Grey had chosen with my eyes, she would have taken him instead.”
“But she did not choose with your eyes, my dear,” said the doctor, smiling; “and she was wise?”
“And why so?” cried Mrs Bolter, tartly.
“Because she saw what a bad one you were at making a choice, my dear. Look at me for a husband, Miss Stuart; this was the best she could do.”