The old gentleman stood surveying the couple—the one with a strongly complimentary right eye, the other with a mixed expression done with the left. This is difficult, and not often resorted to. Presently his face relaxed into a kind of constructive gentleness, and he said to his son:
“Don’t you think you could embrace me, too?”
The young man did it with alacrity.
“Then you are the son of an earl, after all,” said Sally, reproachfully.
“Yes, I—”
“Then I won’t have you!”
“O, but you know—”
“No, I will not. You’ve told me another fib.”
“She’s right. Go away and leave us. I want to talk with her.”