"Miss Willy," he said hoarsely, "am I to understand that you spurn the offer of my noble client, the Duke of Nocastle?"
"I simply can't afford him," Pearl answered. "Tell him I like him very much," was added sweetly.
Sir Charles arose and paced up and down the room, looking as though he might begin to roar at any moment.
"Beyond comprehension—utterly beyond it—incredible," he said. "It is the first time it has ever been done."
"And I feel so sorry for the Duke," put in Pearl sweetly. "He will have to marry Ethel Bumpschus."
This was the spark that set fire to the already over-heated brain of Sir Charles Wigge. He hurried from the room and called for time-tables; he called for the Duke and his boxes, his man, and a trap to get them to the station; he forgot to say good-by to his hostess, and when at last we saw him drive away, Mrs. Radigan sank into a chair and cried feelingly: "Well, anyway, we sat on him!"
They must have gone straight to the Bumpschus house and closed the deal, for we followed them to town from Westbury, and yesterday morning we knew about the engagement. In the evening they gave it to the press with the pictures. That is why Mrs. Radigan shuddered this afternoon when I mentioned Sir Charles Wigge. She stirred her tea meditatively for a very long time. Then she exclaimed: "Well, I'm glad we did sit on them!"
She talked as though she had refused the Duke, instead of cringing for days at his solicitor's feet, but I deemed it wise to let well enough alone, for I had not expected to find her in so amiable a mood after all her plans had been turned so topsy-turvy.
"You certainly did," said I, giving Pearl a sidelong glance, which was returned with interest.