“Nonsense, my dear boy,” cried the Canon, very cheerily. “There’s nothing whatever to be nervous about. You have my complete assurance that Winnie undoubtedly cares for you. Now sit down quietly like a good fellow, and I’ll send my little girl down to you. Bless my soul, it reminds me of the day when I asked my own dear wife to marry me.” Wroxham began to walk up and down the room, turning over in his mind what he should say. The Canon, with deliberate steps, marched to the drawing-room. “Has Harry gone?” asked Lady Sophia. “No, he’s in my study,” answered the Canon, looking down gravely. This was the moment for which he had waited, and he paused to consider the success of his worldly wisdom. “Dear me, how stupid I am!” he cried. “I meant to bring the paper up with me. Winnie, my love, will you fetch it for me?” Winnie got up, but caught her father’s pleased expression, and puzzled, stopped still, looking at him. “Pray go, my dear,” he added, smiling. “I left it in the study.” “But Harry is there,” she said. “I’m under the impression, my love, that he would not be sorry to have a few moments alone with you. I think he has something to say to you.” “To me, papa?” exclaimed Winnie, a little startled. “What on earth can he want?” The Canon put his arm affectionately round her waist. “He will tell you that himself, my love.” Winnie understood now what her father meant, and a deep blush came over her face. Then a coldness rose in her heart and travelled through every limb of her body. She was afraid and confused. “But I can’t see him, I don’t want to.” She shrank away from her father; but he, somewhat amused at this resistance, led her towards the door. “My dear, you must. I can quite understand that you should feel a certain bashfulness. But he has my full approval.” “There’s something I must say to you at once, father. I want to explain.” “There’s nothing to explain, my darling.” She was growing almost distracted. Her father, good-humoured and affectionate, seemed to hold her in the hollow of his hand, taking from her all strength of will. “Father, let me speak. You don’t understand.” “There’s nothing to understand, my dear. I know all about it, and you really need not be nervous. You go with my very best wishes.” “I can’t go. I must speak to you first,” she cried desperately. “Come, come, my dear, you must pluck up courage. It’s nothing very terrible. Go downstairs like a good girl, and I daresay you’ll bring Harry up with you.” He treated her as he would a child, frightened at some imaginary danger, who must be coaxed into boldness. He opened the door, and Winnie, all unwilling, yielded to his stronger mind. With a hearty laugh he came back, rubbing his hands. “A little maidenly modesty! Very charming, very pretty! It’s a lovely sight, my dear Sophia, that of the typical creamy English girl suffused in the blushes of virginal innocence.” “Fiddlesticks!” said Lady Sophia.