Harry turned to me and took my arm affectionately in his.
"You will ask her, won't you?" he murmured. "She's very nice when she chooses."
"She wouldn't have me," I said, laughing.
"Oh yes, she would; and then you need never leave us, which would be pleasant for all, I think. Won't you ask her, cousin?"
"You ask her," I said.
"Dorothy," he broke out, eagerly. "You will wed him, won't you? Our cousin Ormond says he will if you will. And I'll tell Sir George that it's just a family matter, and, besides, he's too old--"
"Yes, tell Sir George that," sneered Ruyven, who had listened in an embarrassment that certainly Dorothy had not betrayed. "You're a great fool, Harry. Don't you know that when people want to wed they ask each other's permission to ask each other's father, and then their fathers ask each other, and then they ask each--"
"Other!" cried Dorothy, laughing deliciously. "Oh, Ruyven, Ruyven, you certainly will be the death of me!"
"All the same," said Harry, sullenly, "our cousin wishes to wed you."
"Do you?" asked Dorothy, raising her amused eyes to me.