Hamilton Beamish reflected. Was George Finch a yap? How precisely did one estimate the yaphood of one's friends?
"By the word 'yap' you mean...."
"I mean a yap. The sort of fellow who couldn't say Bo to a goose."
Hamilton Beamish had never seen George Finch in conversation with a goose, but he thought he was a good enough judge of character to be able to credit him with the ability to perform the very trivial deed of daring indicated.
"I fancy New York has changed George," he replied, after reflection. "In fact, now that I remember, it was on more or less that very subject that I called to see you in a professional capacity. The fact is, George Finch has fallen violently in love with Molly Waddington, the stepdaughter of your client, Mrs. Waddington."
"You don't say! And I suppose he's too shy to come within a mile of her."
"On the contrary. The night before last he seems to have forced his way into the house—you might say, practically forced his way—and now Mrs. Waddington has forbidden him to see Molly again, fearing that he will spoil her plan of marrying the poor child to a certain Lord Hunstanton."
The girl stared.
"You're right! George must have altered."
"And we were wondering—Molly and I—if we could possibly induce you to stoop to a—shall I say a benevolent little ruse. Mrs. Waddington is coming to see you to-day at five, and it was Molly's suggestion that I should sound you as to whether you would consent to take a look in the crystal and tell Mrs. Waddington that you see danger threatening Molly from a dark man with an eye-glass."