"At last," said she, laying down her picture-paper and gliding over to me. "My poor boy, I fear this is the end of your romance. It is splendid of you to stand ready to give up Pearl to the Duke, and no doubt you will find your reward in the consciousness of a duty done. To a certain extent, it is hard for my little sister, for I think she is fond of you, but while she says nothing, I am sure that she believes as I do, that it would be wrong, absolutely wrong, for her to refuse an offer from so great a man, a man any girl would deem it a privilege to marry."
An appeal to Pearl brought me not even a smile.
"I thought Sir Charles would be here soon," she said, "for this despatch in the papers from London says that the meeting of Nocastle's creditors was postponed on receipt of a cablegram from him. Perhaps he would like to see it, Sally."
But Sally did not hear. She was already hurrying downstairs to greet her distinguished callers and to be utterly crushed. Just what Sir Charles said to her I do not know, but how he said it I can easily realize, for she brought the pair up to the library to have "a real comfy time," as she put it, leaving word downstairs that if anyone except Miss Bumpschus called she was not at home.
"And what do you think of America, Sir Wigge?" said Mrs. Radigan, when she had him comfortably fixed with a glass of whiskey and a cigar.
"I had only to drive up Broadway, as you call your Strand, to realize why we did not care to keep New York," Sir Charles replied with a grand smile.
"But did you not admire the skyscrapers?" said I boldly.
"In England," replied our visitor, "we have buildings every bit as long, longer, indeed, much longer, but we lay them along the ground, as they should be laid."
"But, your Lordship," put in Mrs. Radigan with some spirit, "we have not the room, and must build up."
"You should find the room," said Sir Charles with royal good-nature. "We find it in England, Mrs. Bannigan, and I am told that America is somewhat larger even than England."