"Kissing? Oh la, sir, my hand, and so may you." She held it out and made an impudent little curtsy. "I protest the gentleman is all maidenly. That is why he and I make so good a match."
The old gentleman spluttered and was still redder. "Match, miss? What, the devil!"
"Oh no, sir. Pray come in, sir. I see you are in a heat, and I fear for a chill on your gout."
"You are mighty civil, miss. You are too civil by half," the old gentleman puffed, and stalked past her.
Alison stood in the way of Charles Hadley as he made to follow. There was some pugnacity on her fair face. "It's mighty kind of Mr. Hadley to concern himself with me."
"Egad, ma'am, if I come untimely it's pure happy chance."
She whirled round on that and they went in. "Will you please to drink a dish of tea, Sir John?"
"You know I won't, miss." The old gentleman let himself down with a grunt into the largest chair in her drawing-room. "Now who the plague is this kissing fellow?"
"Sure, sir, it's the gentleman Mr. Hadley told you of," said Alison meekly. She hit both her birds. Mr. Hadley and his uncle looked at each other. Sir John snorted. Mr. Hadley shrugged and gave an acid laugh.
"What, what, that fellow of Waverton's? Od burn it, miss, he's a starveling usher."