Roscoria came forward in penitent guise, and began to explain the unlucky mistake that had arisen, and how it was Miss Lyndis Villiers toward whom his heart had yearned.
The admiral snorted. His temper arose. Both the young people knew they were in for it. Sir John Villiers withered them both with his sea-faring eye.
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Roscoria, also a little irritably. "If I tear up that paper, and leave you in possession of that bit of land, and say no more of my marriage in connection with it, but try to gain Miss Lyndis Villiers as a separate undertaking, I suppose it will be all right?"
"Rosetta Villiers is an heiress, so if she pleases to throw herself away on a poor school master—he's no worse than the good-for-nothing military men who generally get the heiress—but Lyndis Villiers has not a penny, and I owe it to my second brother's memory to see that his orphaned child does not marry any impecunious young gentleman. Besides, she is suitably affianced to Mr. Rodda's eldest son. She is, therefore, out of the question."
"For the moment let us assume it," said Roscoria (who, we remember, was better informed); "but in that case, naturally, Miss Rosetta Villiers is free."
A very gentlemanly young man! thought Rosetta approvingly.
"I do not see it, sir," said the admiral, unfurling a handkerchief like a challenge flag. "I will neither give up the field nor permit you to go without your share in the bargain."
"Then give me a trifling consideration in money," suggested Roscoria—"if Miss Villiers will kindly pardon my entering upon such matters in her presence."
"That piece of land and my niece are, in my estimation, priceless. Only the one, sir, is a sufficient substitute for the other. Besides, I decline to have any shilly-shallying in this affair. It will be all over the place to-morrow that Rosetta accepted you and you threw her over."
"Let it be; I accepted the position," said Rosetta.