Patience was not one of the young lady's virtues. On the other hand, the compensating quality of directness was. "Do It Now" was her prevailing motto. She wanted to know what her slave meant by his abrupt change of attitude, and she wanted to know at once. But her methods, though prompt, were not wholly lacking in finesse. Out of her surrounding court she appointed Judge Enderby and Lord Guenn escorts for the morning promenade, and picked up Dr. Alderson on the way.
Be it duly set down to the credit of the Joyous Vision's solider qualities, that old men found her as interesting a companion, though in a different way, as did young men. By skillful management, she led the conversation to the house on the Battery, with the anticipated result that Judge Enderby (all innocent, wily old fox though he was, that he was playing her game) suggested the inclusion of the other claimant in the conference. The Tyro was summoned and came.
"The charge against you," explained the judge, "is contumaciousness in that you still insist on coveting a property which is claimed by royalty, under the divine right of queens."
"I'd be glad to surrender it," said the Tyro meekly, "but there seems to be a species of family obligation about it."
"Obligation or no obligation, you know you can't have it," declared the lady.
"I rather expect to, though."
"When papa says he'll get a thing, he always gets it," she informed him with lofty confidence, "and he has promised me that house."
"Then I'm afraid that this is the time his promise goes unfulfilled," said Judge Enderby.
She turned to him with incredulously raised brows.
"Alderson knows the old records; he's seen the option—it's a queer old document, by the way, but sound legally—and can swear to it."