Half an hour after, when Skelton and Sylvia were sitting together in the cool, dark drawing-room, the door suddenly opened, and Mrs. Shapleigh sailed in, followed by old Tom. The sight that met their eyes might well paralyse them--Skelton, with his arm on Sylvia’s chair, his dark head almost resting on her bright hair; her hand was raised to his lips. Being a self-possessed lover, he did not commit the _gaucherie_ of dropping her hand, but held on to it firmly, saying coolly: “Fairly caught, we are, Sylvia.” Mrs. Shapleigh uttered a faint shriek, while old Tom raised his bristling eyebrows up to the fringe of grey hair over his forehead. Mrs. Shapleigh sank down, overcome by astonishment. Old Tom walked up to Skelton, and said, with a broad grin: “So you have bamboozled my girl?” “Completely,” answered Skelton. Sylvia at that got up and scurried out of the room, with Mrs. Shapleigh after her. Mr. Shapleigh and his whilom ward faced each other. “The game’s up,” was old Tom’s remark. “Apparently,” answered Skelton, smiling; “and, as the consent of the father is usually asked, I am quite willing to ask it now.” “I don’t know that it matters much in any case--least of all in this--because my daughter Sylvia has a spirit that I have never seen equalled in man or woman. I have sometimes seen horses who had it. That’s your prospect, Skelton.” “I’ll risk it gladly,” answered Skelton, who knew well how to play the dauntless lover. “And she has given in to you--the only creature, by Jove! she ever _did_ give in to. But, Skelton, there’s one thing--” Skelton knew exactly what was coming. “There is that boy, Lewis Pryor.” “Miss Shapleigh and I have agreed upon that,” replied Skelton in a tone which put a stop to any further discussion. “If she is satisfied, nobody else can complain.” “Not even her parents?” “See here, Mr. Shapleigh, we know each other too well to beat about the bush. You know your daughter will marry me if she says she will. You haven’t just known her yesterday.” “She will, by the powers of heaven!” burst out Mr. Shapleigh; “and so, I suppose, as you say, it is hardly worth while to talk about it. But, for the sake of the thing, here’s my hand and my consent with it.” “Thank you,” answered Skelton, with grim politeness, and taking his hat at the same time.