Jessie stood as if turned to stone, but no sound escaped her. Dick, however, saw that she was suffering, and he said, sharply—
“Ah! fine young fellow, Tom; but deuced low in his tastes. Wanted to marry a poor shoemaker’s gal—girl, I mean. But there, come into my study, and I’ll give you a glass of genuine port. Mother, tell them to bring in the comic port.”
“Comet port,” she whispered. “I told you before.”
“All right—only meant to get him away. Look at Jessie.”
“I shall be delighted,” said Max. “Ladies, good-bye for the present.”
His bow was perfection; and then Dick led the way through the well-filled conservatory, while Mrs Shingle caught her child’s clammy hand in her own, for Jessie seemed about to faint.