“A good fellow, old Hope,” Solomon would often impress upon his managing clerk. “Don’t worry him more than you can help; things will improve. We can trust him.”
Peter Hope sat at his desk, facing Miss Appleyard. Grindley junior sat on the cushioned seat beneath the middle window. Good Humour’s sub-editor stood before the fire, her hands behind her back.
The case appeared to Peter Hope to be one of exceeding difficulty.
“Of course,” explained Miss Appleyard, “I shall never marry without my father’s consent.”
Peter Hope thought the resolution most proper.
“On the other hand,” continued Miss Appleyard, “nothing shall induce me to marry a man I do not love.” Miss Appleyard thought the probabilities were that she would end by becoming a female missionary.
Peter Hope’s experience had led him to the conclusion that young people sometimes changed their mind.
The opinion of the House, clearly though silently expressed, was that Peter Hope’s experience, as regarded this particular case, counted for nothing.
“I shall go straight to the Governor,” explained Grindley junior, “and tell him that I consider myself engaged for life to Miss Appleyard. I know what will happen—I know the sort of idea he has got into his head. He will disown me, and I shall go off to Africa.”
Peter Hope was unable to see how Grindley junior’s disappearance into the wilds of Africa was going to assist the matter under discussion.