Brian Vereker sat smiling, happy and confident. The fact that Sir John Carr was forty-two and Daphne barely twenty had not occurred to him. All he realised was that the little boy who had been his fag at school, who had lit his fire and made his toast in return for occasional help with cæsuras and quadratic equations, had grown up into a man, and desired to marry his daughter. The whole thing seemed so natural, so appropriate. He glowed with humble pride that Providence should so interest itself in his little household. He beamed upon the young people. Suddenly Daphne turned to him, and released her hold on his hand. "Dad, will you leave us for a little?" she said. "I want to talk to Sir John." The Rector rose. "By all means," he said. "Now I come to think of it, the presence of a third party is not essential to a proposal of marriage. I am _de trop_! I shall be upstairs." He laughed boyishly, and left them. When the door closed Daphne turned to her suitor. "So you want me for your wife?" she said, with the air of one opening a debate. "I do," said Juggernaut. It was the first time he had spoken since she entered the room. "And you went and saw Dad about it," continued Daphne, rather unexpectedly. "Yes. As I understood you were not of age, I asked his permission to speak to you. He rather took the words out of my mouth by calling you in and telling you himself." "I'm glad to hear you say that," said Daphne. "I thought at first the thing was being arranged over my head, and that I wasn't to be consulted at all. But you _were_ going to ask me properly, weren't you? We prefer that, you know." She spoke for her sex. Juggernaut nodded. "Only Dad rushed in and spoiled it--eh?" "That is correct," said Juggernaut. "Well, begin now," said Daphne calmly. "A girl doesn't like to be done out of a proposal. It would be something to tell the kids about afterwards, anyhow." Juggernaut became conscious of a distinctly more lenient attitude towards the Rector's precipitancy. "Now that you know," he began, "a formal proposal would sound rather dull and superfluous, wouldn't it?" "Perhaps you are right," said Daphne, half regretfully. "Dad has spoiled it for me, after all!" Presently-- "I wonder _why_ you want to marry me," she mused, fondling Mr Dawks' ears. "I suppose you have come to the conclusion that it is time you had some one to look after all those houses and servants of yours. Is that it?" Juggernaut regarded her curiously for a moment. "Perhaps," he said.