“Enough!” cried Mr Vaughan, hastily turning his eyes to the garden, as if to search for the insect-hunter. “I shall give it,” continued he, “and this very minute. Mr Smythje!”
Smythje, standing close by the kiosk, on the qui vive of expectation, promptly responded to the summons; and in two seconds of time appeared in the open doorway.
“Mr Smythje—sir!” said the Custos, putting on an air of pompous solemnity befitting the occasion; “you have asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage; and, sir, I am happy to inform you that she has consented to your becoming my son-in-law. I am proud of the honour, sir.”
Here Mr Vaughan paused to get breath.
“Aw, aw!” stammered Smythje. “This is a gweat happiness—veway gweat, indeed! Quite unexpected!—aw, aw!—I am shure, Miss Vawn, I never dweamt such happiness was in store faw me.”
“Now, my children,” playfully interrupted the Custos—covering Smythje’s embarrassment by the interruption—“I have bestowed you upon one another; and, with my blessing, I leave you to yourselves.”
So saying, the gratified father stepped forth from the kiosk; and, wending his way along the walk, disappeared around an angle of the house.
We shall not intrude upon the lovers thus left alone, nor repeat a single word of what passed between them.
Suffice it to say, that when Smythje came out of that same kiosk, his air was rather tranquil than triumphant. A portion of the shadow that had been observed upon Kate’s countenance seemed to have been transmitted to his.
“Well?” anxiously inquired the intended father-in-law.