"No," said the captain, shrinking fastidiously; "I have no fancy for making one in Miss Cherrie's menagerie."
"Does the objection extend to Miss Cherrie herself?" asked Mr. Blake, puffing energetically.
"What do I know of Miss Cherrie?"
"Can't say, only I should suppose you found out something while seeing her home an hour ago, and standing making love to her under the trees afterward."
Captain Cavendish took out his cigar and looked at him.
"Where were you?"
"Coming through the rye—I mean the fields. The next time you try it on, take a more secluded spot, my dear fellow, than the queen's highroad!"
"Oh, hang it!" exclaimed the young officer, impatiently; "it seems to me, Blake, you see more than you have any business to do. Suppose I did talk to the little girl. I met her on the road alone. Could I do less than escort her home?"
"Look here," said Val, "there is an old saying, 'If you have too many irons in the fire, some of them must cool.' Now, that's your case exactly. You have too many irons in the fire."
"I don't understand."