Miss Perry indulged in silence and reflection.
“Perhaps you are right, Jim,” said she. “And if I did you would be able to marry Muffin, and that would be ever so much nicer for you.”
Jim gave an exclamation of impatience.
“Who wants to marry Muffin, you great Goose?” said he.
“But, Jim,” said Miss Perry, gravely, “she is such a——”
“Never mind what she is,” said Jim. “I have my own opinion about her. I want to marry you, and I mean to.”
In spite of the proximity of the Wargrave coat-of-arms, Jim Lascelles thereupon behaved in a very imperious and heedless manner. He encircled the ample form of Miss Perry, and kissed her with great boldness. As no resistance was forthcoming, he repeated the operation.
“You great Goose,” said he.
Whether in the continued absence of resistance Jim Lascelles would have persisted in this behavior, it is hardly right to conjecture; for at this moment there came an interruption. A small, round quadruped came waddling through the gate of Pen-y-Gros Castle. His tail was curled up in a most cynical manner, and, with eyes swollen with baked meats, he gazed about him with the insolence of a feudal lord.
“Aunt Caroline,” whispered Miss Perry. Doubtless there was guilt on her conscience. She drew herself in very close to the pillar.