"Quite. How can you doubt me?"
The aeronaut paused, and then planted this shot squarely in the Colonel's astonished person.
"Then, uncle, you won't mind my saying that I am Reginald Hampton, and that it will be necessary for you to see the blue dahlia and your sister in conjunction."
The Colonel grew purple, then white; he stammered, and beat upon the table with his fingers, and talked in strange languages. But he had the good sense to see that he was cornered. Besides, what had his nephew ever done to him, and how could he help being proud of so unique an horticulturist?
Finally, the Colonel reached out his hand across the table.
"Confound you, boy, you've conquered me! I must see that dahlia!" he cried.
"How to arrange matters floral when the merry month of July comes round, I can't guess," mused Reginald Hampton, as he lit a Manilla. "But sufficient for the day is the evil thereof, and my bounden duty is to marry the little girl in June."