“Titherington is his name,” I said, “and if I have him I don’t see how I can very well leave out Vittie, O’Donoghue, and McMeekin. I don’t know how you feel about the matter, but I rather object to being made a public show of with five best men.” “I’m so delighted about it,” said my mother, “that I don’t mind if you go on talking nonsense about it all the evening. Lalage will be exactly the wife you want. She’ll shake you up out of your lazy ways and make something of you in the end.” “Has she settled that?” “No. She and I are to have a long talk about that, sometime, soon.” I was about to protest, when the door opened and Miss Battersby staggered breathlessly into the room. She was highly flushed and evidently greatly excited. She made straight for me. I thought she was going to kiss me, I still think that she meant to. I pushed my mother forward and got into a corner behind the tea table. Miss Battersby worked off the worst of her emotion on my mother. She must have kissed her eighteen or twenty times. After that she did not want to do more than to shake hands with me. “Lalage has just told me,” she said, “and I’m so glad. I happened to be at the rectory when she came home. She had been looking for me in the morning, and as soon as I could I went over to her.” “Has she telegraphed to Miss Pettigrew?” I asked. “Not that I know of,” said Miss Battersby; “in fact, I’m sure she hasn’t.” “Then I’ll do it myself. I don’t see why Lalage should be the only one to break the news. I’d send a wire to Hilda too if I knew her surname; but I’ve never been able to find that out. I wish she’d marry Selby-Harrison. Then I’d know how to address her when I want to telegraph or write to her.” “Won’t you stay for dinner?” said my mother to Miss Battersby. “We can send you home afterward.” “Oh, no. The car is waiting for me at the rectory. I told the man to put up. Lord Thormanby----” “You might break it to him,” I said. “He’ll be greatly delighted,” said Miss Battersby. “No, he won’t,” I said. “At least I shall be very much surprised if he is. He told me this morning that I was to go and muzzle Lalage.” “He didn’t mean it,” said Miss Battersby. “Besides,” said my mother, “you will.” I reflected on this. My mother and Miss Pettigrew are intimate friends. They must have talked over Lalage’s future together many times. I knew what Miss Pettigrew’s views were and I suspect that my mother was in full agreement with them. Owing to the emotional strain to which I had been subjected I may have been in a hypersensitive condition. I seemed to detect in my mother’s confident prophecy an allusion to Miss Pettigrew’s plans. Women, even women like my mother, are greatly wanting in delicacy. I was so much afraid of her saying something more on the subject that I bade Miss Battersby good-bye, hurriedly, and left the room. After dinner my mother again took up the subject of my engagement.