Lady Jocelyn looked not absolutely displeased. Old Tom was chuckling at her elbow. The two principal actors remained dumb.
“I suppose, if we leave young people to settle a thing, this is how they do it,” her ladyship remarked.
“’Gad, and they do it well!” cried Old Tom.
Rose, with a deep blush on her cheeks, stepped from Evan to her mother. Not in effrontery, but earnestly, and as the only way of escaping from the position, she said: “I have succeeded, Mama. He will take what I offer.”
“And what’s that, now?” Old Tom inquired.
Rose turned to Evan. He bent and kissed her hand.
“Call it ‘recompense’ for the nonce,” said Lady Jocelyn. “Do you still hold to your original proposition, Tom?”
“Every penny, my lady. I like the young fellow, and she’s a jolly little lass—if she means it:—she’s a woman.”
“True,” said Lady Jocelyn. “Considering that fact, you will oblige me by keeping the matter quiet.”
“Does she want to try whether the tailor’s a gentleman still, my lady—eh?”