Carelessly he sauntered in by way of the back premises, and was instantly struck by the sound of a man’s voice, well-bred, with a slightly haughty intonation, speaking in one of the front rooms of the little house.

“Dinah seemed to think that she could not keep it in till to-morrow,” it said, with easy assurance.  “So I thought I had better come along with her to-night and get it over.”

The words reached Bathurst as he arrived in the small square hall, and he stopped dead.  “Hullo!  Hullo!” he murmured softly to himself.

And then came his wife’s voice, a harsh, determined voice, “Do I understand that you wish to marry my daughter?”

“That’s the idea,” came the suave reply.  “You don’t know me, of course, but I think I can satisfy you that I am not an undesirable parti.  My family is considered fairly respectable, as old families go.  I am the ninth baronet in direct succession; and I have a very fair amount of worldly goods to offer my wife.”

Mrs. Bathurst broke in upon him, a tremor of eagerness in her hard voice.  “If that is the case, of course I have no objection,” she said.  “Dinah won’t do any better for herself than that.  It seems to me that she will have the best of the bargain.  But that is your affair.  She’s full young.  I don’t suppose you want to marry her yet, do you?”

“I’d marry her to-night if I could,” said Sir Eustace, with his careless laugh.

But Mrs. Bathurst did not laugh with him.  “We’ll have the banns published and everything done proper,” she said.  “Hasty marriages as often as not aren’t regular.  Here, Dinah!  Don’t stand there listening!  Go and see if the kettle boils!”

It was at this point that Bathurst deemed that the moment had arrived to present himself.  He entered, almost running into Dinah about to hurry out.

“Hullo!” he said.  “Hullo!” and taking her by the shoulders, kissed her.

She clung to him for a moment, her sweet face burning.  “Oh, Dad!” she murmured in confusion, “Oh, Dad!”

With his arm about her, he turned her back into the room.  “You come back and introduce me to your new friend!” he said.  “I’ve got to thank him, you know, for taking such care of you.”

She yielded, but not very willingly.  She was painfully embarrassed, almost incoherent, as she obeyed Bathurst’s behest.

“This—­this is Dad,” she murmured.

Sir Eustace came forward with his leisurely air of confidence.  His great bulk seemed to fill the low room.  He looked even more magnificent than usual.

“Ah, sir, you have just come in from hunting,” he said.  “I hope I don’t intrude.  It’s a beastly wet evening.  I should think you’re not sorry to get in.”

Mrs. Bathurst, tall, bony, angular, with harsh, gipsy features that were still in a fashion boldly handsome, broke in upon her husband’s answering greeting.

“Ronald, this gentleman tells me he wants to marry Dinah.  It is very sudden, but these things often are.  You will give your consent of course.  I have already given mine.”