The priest and Eugene rose and bowed profoundly at the entrance of the little, short, sharp business man. His gray eyes took in their peculiarities at one glance; then, somewhat flattered by their obeisances, he responded by a nod of his head, and motioned them to be seated.
“You know my small daughter?” he asked, addressing Eugene.
“Sir, I have the honor of romping with her at times,” said the boy solemnly.
“Indeed!” replied Mr. Manning with equal solemnity; then with a quick, brisk movement of his hand he brushed back the hair from his forehead, and looked out of the window.
Eugene, overcome by the knowledge of the importance of his mission, neither smiled nor tried to make himself agreeable in any way to this brusque man, but waited in sober patience for a sufficient time to elapse before the proper moment arrived to approach the object of his visit.
“It is a raw day,” Mr. Manning said at last, addressing the priest.
A raw day was something quite beyond the curé’s ken; so he made no attempt to reply to the remark, but bowed agreeably and kept silence.
“I am come,” said Eugene at last, “to demand the Hand of Your Daughter in Marriage.”