“What, nothing to Jack?” exclaimed Freddy. “If that don’t beat the Dutch! Not but what I’m dashed glad to hear it, Kitty! Felicitate you!”
“Yes,” said Miss Charing, “but it is on condition that I marry one or other of his great-nephews, and that, Freddy, is why you were invited to Arnside! You are to offer for me!”
The effect of this pronouncement was quite as great as she could have desired, and, possibly, rather greater. Mr. Standen, who had disposed his slender person gracefully in a chair on the other side of the fireplace, was jerked suddenly upright. An expression of the most profound horror transformed his amiable countenance; his eyes showed an alarming tendency to start from his head; and he said, in a voice approaching a squeak: “ What?”
Miss Charing was betrayed into an unromantic giggle.
Mr. Standen looked suspiciously at her. “Now, listen to me, Kitty!” he said severely. “If you’re trying to roast me—No, my God! So that was it! I might have guessed as much! Well, if I don’t serve him trick-and-tie, for this—!”
“Who?” demanded Kitty.
“Jack,” said Mr. Standen. “Mind, I thought it was a dashed smoky thing! In fact, I settled it with myself I wouldn’t come. Well, what I mean is, I ain’t such a green ’un as to fall into one of Jack’s take-ins! But, you know, Kit, this is a devilish business! Why, if I hadn’t chanced to meet you I should have found myself dished-up! You might have warned me, my dear girl!”
Miss Charing paid no heed to this, but fixed her eyes most earnestly upon his face, and asked: “Did Jack tell you to come?”
“That’s it. Met him at Limmer’s last night. Wearing a coat I didn’t like. Told me he let Scott make it for him. Pity! Made him look like a military man.”
“Never mind Jack’s coat!” interrupted Kitty. “What did he say to you?”