“Eh?”

“Would you mind if I married a man older than myself—­I mean a good deal older?”

He looked at her in silence.  Two or three names passed before his mind, but he couldn’t remember—­

“Father, I’m in trouble.  I really am.  I didn’t expect—­”

Her voice faltered.  He saw that she really found it difficult to speak.  A little wave of tenderness rolled over his heart.  It was unlike her to be so much moved.  He got up and came round to her.

“What is it, dear?  Tell me.”

She remained perfectly motionless for an instant.  Then she held out the note to him, and simultaneously stood up.  As he took it, she went swiftly past him and out of the door.  He heard the swish of her dress pass up the stairs, and then the closing of a door.  But he hardly heeded it.  He was reading the note she had given him.  It was a short, perfectly formal offer of marriage to her from Lord Talgarth.

(II)

“Father, dear,” said Jenny, “I want you to let me have my say straight out, will you?”

He bowed his head.

They were sitting, on the evening of the same day, over the tea-things in his study.  He had not seen her alone for one moment since the morning.  She had refused to open her door to him when he went up after reading the note:  she had pleaded a headache at lunch, and she had been invisible all the afternoon.  Then, as he came in about tea-time, she had descended upon him, rather pale, but perfectly herself, perfectly natural, and even rather high-spirited.  She had informed him that tea would be laid in his study, as she wanted a long talk.  She had poured out tea, talking all the time, refusing, it seemed, to meet his eyes.  When she had finished, she had poured out his third cup, and then pushed her own low chair back so far that he could not see her face.

Then she had opened the engagement.

* * * * *

To say that the poor man had been taken aback would be a very poor way of describing his condition.  The thing simply had never entered his head.  He had dreamed, in wild moments, of Archie; he had certainly contemplated Dick; but Lord Talgarth himself, gouty and aged sixty-five!...  And yet he had not been indignant.  Indignation not only did not do with Jenny, but it was impossible.  To be quite frank, the man was afraid of his daughter; he was aware that she would do ultimately as she wished, and not as he wished; and his extreme discomfort at the thought of this old man marrying his daughter was, since he was human, partly counter-balanced by the thought of who the old man was.  Lastly, it must be remembered that Jenny was really a very sensible girl, and that her father was quite conscious of the fact.

Jenny settled herself once more in her chair and began.

* * * * *

“Father, dear, I want to be quite sensible about this.  And I’ve been very foolish and silly about it all day.  I can’t imagine why I behaved as I did.  There’s nothing to go and mope about, that Lord Talgarth has been kind enough to do me this honor.  Because it is an honor, you know, however you look at it, that anyone should ask one to be his wife.