Winnie looked up gravely and nodded.
“Well, well, I’m not a hard father.” He smiled good-naturedly and opened his arms. “What would you say if I offered to withdraw my opposition?”
Winnie, astonished, scarcely believing her ears, sprang to her feet.
“Papa, do you mean that?”
She flung her arms round his neck and burst into tears. The Canon, pressing her to his bosom, kissed her fair hair. But Lady Sophia was dumfounded.
“Now, my dear, go to your room and wash those tears away,” said he, with laughing tenderness. “You mustn’t have red eyes, or people will think I’m a perfect tyrant. But mind,” he shook his finger playfully as she smiled through her tears, “mind you don’t put too much powder on your nose.”
When Winnie was gone, Canon Spratte turned to his sister with a hearty laugh.
“The dear girl! Our children, Sophia, are often a sore trial to us, but we must take the rough with the smooth; at times also they give us a great deal of self-satisfaction.”
“Did my ears deceive me?” asked Lady Sophia. “Or did you in fact consent to Winnie’s preposterous engagement?”
“You’re surprised, Sophia? You don’t know me; you can’t understand that I should sacrifice my most cherished ideas to gratify the whim of a silly school-girl. You’re a clever woman, Sophia—but you’re not quite so clever as your humble servant.”