Miss Thane, to whom, in the coffee-room, this remark was addressed, said that the betrothal, though perhaps a complication, had been inevitable from the start.
“Quite so, ma’am. But if you had not encouraged Eustacie to remain here it need not have been inevitable.”
“I might have known you would lay it at my door!” said Miss Thane in a voice of pious resignation.
“I imagine you might, since you are very well aware of having fostered the engagement!” retorted Shield. “I had thought you a woman of too much sense to encourage such an insane affair.”
“Oh!” said Miss Thane idiotically, “but I think it is so romantic!”
“Don’t be so foolish!” said Sir Tristram, refusing to smile at this sally.
“How cross you are!” marvelled Miss Thane. “I suppose when one reaches middle age it is difficult to sympathize with the follies of youth.”
Sir Tristram had walked over to the other side of the room to pick up his coat and hat, but this was too much for him, and he turned and said with undue emphasis: “It may interest you to know, ma’am, that I am one-and-thirty years old, and not yet in my dotage!”
“Why, of course not!” said Miss Thane soothingly. “You have only entered upon what one may call the sober time of life. Let me help you to put on your coat!”
“Thank you,” said Sir Tristram. “Perhaps you would also like to give me the support of your arm as far as the door?”