The captain was some fifty yards away, but Glynne did not stay. She merely waved her hand, and hurried to the front of the house, while her future lord came slowly on, whistling, with his hands in his pockets.
“You’ve not opposed the match, then?” whispered Sir John.
“No,” said the major, “but I think less of it than ever.”
“Humph!” ejaculated his brother. “Have you spoken to Rolph yet?”
“No. Haven’t seen him.”
“Then, for goodness’ sake, drop all prejudice, Jem, and shake hands warmly. You see they are devotedly attached.”
“No, I don’t,” said the major, gruffly; “but I’ll shake hands.”
“Yes, do, Jem, do. It’s the one desire of my life to see Glynne engaged to a good, manly fellow who cares for her, and, now the opportunity has come, I look to you to help me.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the major, as Rolph came up, and Sir John struck the iron while it was hot, to use his own form of expression.
“Ready for lunch, Rob?”