“You were caught in a man-trap?”
“Yes; my dress was. That’s how it arose. Edgar is up-stairs in his own sitting-room,” she went on. “He would not mind seeing you, I am sure.”
“Oh, faith, I don’t want to see him! I have seen him too often a’ready. I’ll see him another time, perhaps, if ’tis to oblige ’ee.”
“He came to see me; he wanted to consult me about this large partnership I speak of, as it is very promising.”
“Oh, I am glad to hear it,” said Melbury, dryly.
A pause ensued, during which the inquiring faces and whity-brown clothes of Melbury’s companions appeared in the door-way.
“Then bain’t you coming home with us?” he asked.
“I—I think not,” said Grace, blushing.
“H’m—very well—you are your own mistress,” he returned, in tones which seemed to assert otherwise. “Good-night;” and Melbury retreated towards the door.
“Don’t be angry, father,” she said, following him a few steps. “I have done it for the best.”