Speaking to Papa.
Meanwhile Trevor was on his way to Tolcarne, where he was shown into the library. He felt flushed and excited, but he had come with the confidence of a conqueror; and, besides, he could feel that he was no ineligible parti for the young lady.
“Poor Franky, I know he’s bitten by that little fairy,” he said, as he waited impatiently—the “directly” of Edward, who had announced that Sir Hampton was in the garden and would come, having extended to ten minutes.
“Hang the formality of these things!” said Trevor. “I could talk to that dear little woman, Lady Rea, by the hour without feeling uncomfortable; but as to pater—well, there; it’s only once in a man’s life. Here he is.”
The door leading into a farther passage opened this moment, and Trevor rose; but instead of encountering fierce Sir Hampton, in skipped petite Fin, to run up to him flushed and excited, but with her eyes sparkling with pleasure.
She placed both her little hands in his, and her words came in hurried jerks, as she exclaimed—
“Tiny told me all about it—last night—Oh, I’m so glad!”
“That’s right, little fairy,” laughed Trevor, smiling down on the pleasant little face.
“But there’s been such a rumpus, and I came to tell you before pa came.”
“Indeed,” said Trevor, retaining the little hands, though there was no effort made to remove them.