"All right!" muttered Clarence Augustus, opening the missive and glancing over the contents; an angry flush suffusing his face, as he read.
"What is it? She hasn't declined, surely?" Mrs. Faude asked in an undertone, close at his side.
"Just that; it's from the mother; thanks me for the invitation, but respectfully declines; not even vouchsafing a shadow of an excuse. What can it mean?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. But if they knew you had serious intentions—it might make a difference."
"Possibly. I'll soon bring it to the proof."
He rose and went out in search of Mr. Travilla, found him alone, and at once asked his permission to pay his addresses to Elsie.
The request was courteously, but decidedly and firmly refused.
"May I ask why?" queried the young man in anger and astonishment.
"Because, sir, it would not be agreeable to either my daughter herself, to her mother or to me."
"Then I must say, sir, that you are all three hard to please. But pray, sir, what is the objection?"