“You instructed me to tell Prudence to find another young man.”
Lionel tried to restrain himself, and failed lamentably.
“Oh, I say!”
The Squire preserved his magisterial tone and deportment.
“You say nothing, Lionel. This is my affair. Now, Ben, I’ll lay ten to three you never delivered my message.”
“That he did,” whimpered Prudence. “In this very room, too.”
“Um! I beg your pardon, Ben. Don’t sniff, Prudence! And answer my questions truthfully. If that message was delivered, how dare you kiss Alfred in my shrubberies?”
Prudence pulled herself together, meeting the Squire’s inflamed glance.
“Me and Alfred’ll be man an’ wife, come Michaelmas.”
“In—deed? Cut and dried, is it?”