"Immediately, my son. I was just about to make that same request." Grandpa looked at Kate, then at Carrington. "I suppose you young persons will invite poor old grandpa to the wedding?"
"Father!" This was altogether too much for patrician blood. Cavenaugh's face reddened and his fists closed ominously. "You will do me the honor, father, not to meddle with my private affairs. Kate is my daughter, and she shall marry the man it pleases me to accept."
Carrington felt this cut dart over grandpa's shoulder. He stirred uneasily.
"Oh, if that's the way you look at it!" with a comical deprecatory shrug. Grandpa touched Carrington on the arm. "Young man, do you love this girl? No false modesty, now; the truth, and nothing but the truth. Do you love her?"
"With all my heart!" Carrington felt the impulse occult. Something whispered that his whole future depended upon his answer.
"And you, Kate?"
"I love him, grandpa," bravely.
"That's all I want to know," said grandpa.
Cavenaugh released one of his fists; it fell upon the table and rattled things generally.
"Am I in my own house?" he bawled.