“I may say I was among the first to discover its striking merit. I thought it my duty to encourage him, and I asked him to come and see us. His father, it appears, was a coal-heaver, and I thought him a very remarkable fellow. But he repaid my kindness by falling in love with Winnie and asking her to marry him.”
“Why didn’t you kick him down-stairs?” laughed Wroxham, lightly.
“Upon my word, I had half a mind to. I will never befriend the lower orders again; they always take liberties with you.”
At this juncture Winnie came into the room. Canon Spratte told her that he had informed Wroxham of the unfortunate incident. She gave her devoted lover an appealing glance; and the thought that she was so fearful to offend him, increased a thousandfold his passionate tenderness.
“You’re not angry with me, dear?”
“Because a madman wants to marry you? Why, I want to do that myself.”
“Capital! Capital!” laughed the Canon. “But seriously I don’t think he’s quite right in his head. His sister is in a lunatic asylum, you know. I hope you won’t receive any nonsensical letter from him.”
Wroxham was all eyes for Winnie, and scarcely listened to the trivial topic.
“If I do, it shall go straight into the waste-paper basket,” he answered, lightly.
“Quite right,” said the Canon. “Quite right!”