“Whew!” whistled old Mr. Kennedy, replacing his pipe between his teeth, gazing abstractedly at the ground, and emitting clouds innumerable. After standing thus a few seconds, he turned his back slowly upon Harry, and smiled outrageously once or twice, winking at the same time, after his own fashion, at the river. Turning abruptly round, he regarded Harry with a look of affected dignity, and said, “Pray, sir, what did my daughter say to your very peculiar proposal?”
“She said ye—ah! that is—she didn’t exactly say anything, but she—indeed I—”
“Humph!” ejaculated the old gentleman, deepening his frown as he regarded his young friend through the smoke. “In short, she said nothing, I suppose, but led you to infer, perhaps, that she would have said yes if I hadn’t interrupted you.”
Harry blushed, and said nothing.
“Now, sir,” continued Mr. Kennedy, “don’t you think that it would have been a polite piece of attention on your part to have asked my permission before you addressed my daughter on such a subject, eh?”
“Indeed,” said Harry, “I acknowledge that I have been hasty, but I must disclaim the charge of disrespect to you, sir. I had no intention whatever of broaching the subject to-day, but my feelings, unhappily, carried me away, and—and—in fact—”
“Well, well, sir,” interrupted Mr. Kennedy, with a look of offended dignity, “your feelings ought to be kept more under control. But come, sir, to my house. I must talk further with you on this subject. I must read you a lesson, sir—a lesson, humph! that you won’t forget in a hurry.”
“But, my dear sir—” began Harry.
“No more, sir—no more at present,” cried the old gentleman, smoking violently as he pointed to the footpath that led to the house, “Lead the way, sir; I’ll follow.”
The footpath, although wide enough to allow Kate and Harry to walk, beside each other, did not permit of two gentlemen doing so conveniently—a circumstance which proved a great relief to Mr. Kennedy, inasmuch as it enabled him, while walking behind his companion, to wink convulsively, smoke furiously, and punch his own ribs severely, by way of opening a few safety-valves to his glee, without which there is no saying what might have happened. He was nearly caught in these eccentricities more than once, however, as Harry turned half round with the intention of again attempting to exculpate himself—attempts which were as often met by a sudden start, a fierce frown, a burst of smoke, and a command to “go on.” On approaching the house, the track became a broad road, affording Mr. Kennedy no excuse for walking in the rear, so that he was under the necessity of laying violent restraint on his feelings—a restraint which it was evident could not last long. At that moment, to his great relief, his eye suddenly fell on the gray cat, which happened to be reposing innocently on the doorstep.