“Indeed she did; and now that you are running your head into a very pretty silken skein, and tangling yourself up in the most tremendous manner, I think it is time for me to act.”
“Quite right, Phil,” said the Captain. “You wanted checking. The young lady is delicious, and all that is innocent and nice; but you are not content with a pleasant chat.”
“No,” said the Lieutenant firmly; “I mean to marry her.”
“Indeed!” said Otway dryly. “Who and what is she?”
“A lady of the greatest refinement and sweetness of character.”
“Granted; but who is her mother?”
“Mrs Hallam, a lady whom, in spite of her sadness of disposition and distant ways, it is a privilege to know.”
“Will you go on, Bel?” said Otway.
“No! Oh, Captain, you are talking grand sense! I’ll listen.”
“Well, then, here is another question. Who is Mr Hallam?”