“Girl, will you have the goodness to explain,” said the old lady, “why you are not quite able to marry Lord Cheriton?”
At last Miss Perry was able to furnish the required explanation.
“If you please, Aunt Caroline,” she drawled ridiculously, “I have p-r-r-romised to marry Jim.”
The old lady’s ebony walking-stick fell to the ground so peremptorily that Ponto was disturbed in his slumbers.
“Jim!” said Aunt Caroline. “Who, pray, is Jim?”
“Jim Lascelles,” said Miss Perry.
“I presume you mean the painting man,” said Aunt Caroline.
“Yes,” said Miss Perry.
There was a pause in which Cheriton and his old friend looked at one another long and particularly.
“Hand me my stick, girl,” said Aunt Caroline.