The dutiful son nodded a semi-indifferent acquiescence and disappeared.
“Wonderful thing, sherry!” observed Sir John Meredith for his own edification.
He waited there until Jack returned, and then they set off in search of refreshment. The son seemed to know his whereabouts better than the father.
“This way,” he said, “through the conservatory.”
Amidst the palms and tropical ferns Sir John paused. A great deal of care had been devoted to this conservatory. Half hidden among languorous scented flowers were a thousand tiny lights, while overhead in the gloom towered graceful palms and bananas. A fountain murmured pleasantly amidst a cluster of maidenhairs. The music from the ballroom fell softly over all.
Sir John Meredith and his son stood in silence, looking around them. Finally their eyes met.
“Are you in earnest with that girl?” asked Sir John abruptly.
“I am,” replied Jack. He was smiling pleasantly.
“And you think there is a chance of her marrying you—unless, of course, something better turns up?”
“With all due modesty I do.”