“You will see, uncle, directly. I will not say any more about it. She would have her own way.”
“Here, I’ll come at once.”
“No, no, uncle dear; I’ll go and fetch her down.”
“And make a parade of her all through this confounded caravanserai of an hotel!” cried the old man testily. “I can’t think why she persisted in having it away from home.”
“Yes, you can, uncle dear,” said the girl soothingly. “It was very, very natural. But do, do be gentle with her. She is so ready to burst into tears, and I want her to go off as happy as the day.”
“Of course, Edie, my dear; of course. I’ll bottle it all up, and then you and your old fool of an uncle can have a good cry together all to ourselves, eh? But I say, little one, no hitches this time in the anchorage.”
“There very nearly was one, uncle.”
“What!” roared the old man, flushing.
“But I set it right with a telegram.”
“What—what was it? Stratton going to shuffle?”