“What did you expect me to be interested in?” my father inquired. “I was absorbed in the fowl. Favor me by returning to the subject.”
Mrs. Staveley admits that she answered this rather sharply: “The subject, sir, was your son’s admiration for a charming girl: one of the daughters of Mr. Gracedieu, the famous preacher.”
My father is too well-bred to speak to a lady while his attention is absorbed by a fowl. He finished the second wing, and then he asked if “Philip was engaged to be married.”
“I am not quite sure,” Mrs. Staveley confessed.
“Then, my dear friend, we will wait till we are sure.”
“But, Mr. Dunboyne, there is really no need to wait. I suppose your son comes here, now and then, to see you?”
“My son is most attentive. In course of time he will contrive to hit on the right hour for his visit. At present, poor fellow, he interrupts me every day.”
“Suppose he hits upon the right time to-morrow?”
“Yes?”
“You might ask him if he is engaged?”