Hamlin answered rather grimly:
“Joyce hasn’t stood still.”
As he spoke he eyed Lionel sharply, so sharply that the young man felt uncomfortable. Hamlin went on in a very uncompromising tone:
“I give my daughter a free hand, Lionel. I trust her absolutely.”
“But, of course, sir.”
“There is no ‘of course’ about it. She happens to have earned that trust. ‘Playing about with you’ sounds harmless enough, and I trust you unreservedly, too; but tongues will wag in country villages, and I don’t want them wagging about my girl. That’s all.”
Lionel accepted this as satisfactory. The Parson had given a hint to Joyce. He smiled pleasantly, so pleasantly that the Parson took his arm and pressed it.
“You’re a good fellow, Lionel, but rather dense.”
“Thank you, sir. Have another shot.”
All the grimness went out of Hamlin’s voice, as he explained: