"Certainly," said Julian carelessly, as if he were saying the lightest of nothings; "but I think you will find that I could have answered you quite as well."
"How so?" said the baronet, glowering at him, his fingers twitching to take this courtly, easy-spoken man by the throat.
"Because you come to propose your son, Mr. George, for the honour of the hand of Miss Aline Minto. Miss Aline can say 'No' for herself. But I think you had better not trouble her and content yourself with the indication I give you."
"And what is that?"
"That Miss Aline prefers to remain as she is!"
The baronet, however, insisted on a personal answer. Miss Aline came in and stood shyly while Sir Bunny pointed out the advantages of his proposal—the estates joined, the parish under control, and the family name changed by poll deed to Minto-Bunny-Bunny.
"I am obliged for your thinking of me," said Miss Aline sweetly, "but for the present I have no intention of marrying."
"I warn you," said Sir Bunny Bunny, "that by continuing to act as you are doing, you are exposing yourself to misconstruction—"
Julian Wemyss, who had been looking out of the window, turned suddenly and caught his eye.
Old Sir Bunny was no coward, but he shrank from the look of Julian Wemyss as if it had been a knife at his breast.