“What engagement?” said the old man. He liked to amuse himself with the two old cats. He put his newspaper away and prepared to “get his fun out of them.”
“Oh, the engagement between Stella and Sir Charles,” said Mrs. Shanks, with bated breath.
“Oh! they’re engaged, are they?” he said, with that laugh which was like an electrical bell.
“Dear Mr. Tredgold, it is given out everywhere. They are for ever together. They dance every dance with one another.”
“Confounded dull, I should think, for my little girl. You take my word, she’ll soon tire of that,” he said.
“Oh, but she does not tire of it; you don’t go out with them, you don’t see things. I assure you they are always together. If you don’t approve of it, Mr. Tredgold, indeed—indeed you should put a stop to it. It isn’t kind to dear Stella.”
“Oh, stop, stop, Ruth Mildmay!” cried Mrs. Shanks. “Stella knows very well just how far she can go. Stella would never do anything that was displeasing to her dear papa. May I pour out the tea for you, dear Mr. Tredgold, as the girls are not in?”
Mr. Tredgold gave the permission with a wave of his hand, and hoped that Miss Mildmay would say just as much as she pleased.
“I like to know what my girls do when they’re out,” he said. “I like to know that Stella is enjoying herself. That’s what they go out for. Just to get themselves as much pleasure as is to be had, in their own way.”
“But you would not wish them to compromise themselves,” said Miss Mildmay. “Oh, I wouldn’t interfere for the world. But as you don’t go out with them you ought to be told. I do hope you approve of Sir Charles, Mr. Tredgold. He is a nice young man enough. He has been a little fast; but so have they all; and he is old enough now to have more sense. I am sure he will make you a very good son-in-law. So long as you approve——”