"Say, listen!" said Sigsbee H. "What's that infernal butler doing in the room with the wedding-presents?"
"Keeping guard over them."
"Who told him to?"
"I did."
"Hell's bells!" said Sigsbee H.
He gave George a peculiar look and shimmered off. If George had been more in the frame of mind to analyse the looks of his future father-in-law, he might have seen in this one a sort of shuddering loathing. But he was not in the frame of mind. Besides, Sigsbee H. Waddington was not the kind of man whose looks one analysed. He was one of those negligible men whom one pushes out of sight and forgets about. George proceeded to forget about him almost immediately. He was still forgetting about him, when an automobile appeared round the bend of the drive and, stopping beside him, discharged Mrs. Waddington, Molly, and a man with a face like a horse whom, from his clerical costume, George took correctly to be the deputy from Flushing.
"Molly!" cried George.
"Here we are, angel," said Molly.
"And mother!" said George, with less heartiness.
"Mother!" said Mrs. Waddington, with still less heartiness than George.