“This is heartening news indeed, my dear. But may I know also the other reasons which prompted your visit?”

Once again Molly Bashe blushed furiously. She had a soft white skin whose finely grained quality I had already tasted to my great delectation, and she had the very decided ardent temperament that such a sign always presupposes. At last she managed to express herself in a tone that was far from her usual affectatious one and which was rather more stammered than clearly enunciated: “I-I know what you must be thinking, but I want you to believe-truly I do, Mr. Jack-that-that I’m not angry with you for what you did. I know that Mummy was trying ever so hard to get me married off to you.”

“That is correct, and I felt that she had gone much too far. But I will say in all gallantry at this moment, my dear, that from the physical point of view marriage to you would not exactly be an abomination. It was only that I could not tolerate your mother’s unscrupulous maneuvering to foist you off on me, and also that you yourself behaved like a younger edition.”

“I-I know. But you see, Mr. Jack, M-Mummy has nothing to live for except me and that is because my father died about ten years ago. She is eager to marry me off, and she has just announced my engagement to a gentleman who is about forty-five. He has a minor diplomatic post at the Embassy, and he is a very good match, at least from Mummy’s point of view.”

“My heartiest congratulations, then, Miss Molly,” I said cheerfully. “And I am happy that you bear me no rancor. When are the happy nuptials to be celebrated?”