“No; I 'm staying on,” said Shelton.
“Ah!” said the stained-glass man, “charming people, the Dennants!”
Shelton, reddening slowly, turned his head away; he picked a gooseberry, and muttered, “Yes.”
“The eldest girl especially; no nonsense about her. I thought she was a particularly nice girl.”
Shelton heard this praise of Antonia with an odd sensation; it gave him the reverse of pleasure, as though the words had cast new light upon her. He grunted hastily,
“I suppose you know that we 're engaged?”
“Really!” said the stained-glass man, and again his bright, clear, iron-committal glance swept over Shelton—“really! I didn't know. Congratulate you!”
It was as if he said: “You're a man of taste; I should say she would go well in almost any drawing-room!”
“Thanks,” said Shelton; “there she' is. If you'll excuse me, I want to speak to her.”