As Mrs. Romer uttered these words she glanced up at the Reynolds portrait above their heads, as if half-suspecting that such fawning flattery would bring down the mockery of the little Lady-in-Waiting.
“I can’t help thinking Lacrima would make a very good wife to some hard-working sensible man,” Mr. Romer remarked.
His lady looked a little puzzled. “It would be difficult to find so suitable a companion for Gladys,” she said.
“Oh, of course I don’t mean till Gladys is married,” said the quarry-owner quickly. “By the way, when is she going to accept that young fool of an Ilminster?”
“All in good time, my dear, all in good time,” purred his wife. “He has not proposed to her yet.”
“It’s very curious,” remarked Mr. Romer pensively, “that a young man of such high connections should wish to marry our daughter.”
“What things you say, Mortimer! Isn’t Gladys going to inherit all this property? Don’t you suppose that a younger son of Lord Tintinhull would jump at the idea of being master of this house?”
“He won’t be master of it while I live,” said Mr. Romer grimly.
“In my opinion he never will be”; added the lady. “I don’t think Gladys really intends to accept him.”