“Young Railing? Absurd! My daughter knows what is due to herself and to her family. She may be young, but she has a sense of dignity which I should be pleased to see in you, Thomas. Remember our motto: _Malo mori quam fœdari_, I would sooner die than be disgraced.” “I always think we were overcharged for that,” murmured Lord Spratte. “Of course a fine sentiment merely excites your ribaldry!” “My dear Theodore, I have the receipt among the family papers.” At that moment Winnie, unhappy and pale, came quickly into the room. She gave her father a rapid look of apprehension, then, as if seeking protection, glanced appealingly at the others. But the Canon, full of complacent affection, went towards her and took her in his arms. “My dear child!” He looked round, and with sportive tenderness gazed into his daughter’s eyes. “But where is the young man? Why haven’t you brought him upstairs with you, darling?” Winnie, an expression of pain settling about her mouth, disengaged herself from the parental embrace. “Papa, Harry has asked me to marry him.” “I know, I know. He did it with my full approval.” “I hope you won’t be angry,” she said, taking her father’s hand, with a look of entreaty. “You wouldn’t want me to do anything I didn’t like, father.” “What on earth d’you mean?” he cried, surprised and uncertain. “I had to say--that I couldn’t.” The Canon started as though he were shot. “What! You’re joking. Oh, it’s a mistake! I won’t have it. Where is he?” He went rapidly to the door as if he meant to call back the rejected lover. “Papa, what are you doing?” cried Winnie, distracted. “He’s gone!” The Canon stopped and came back grimly. “I suppose you’re joking, Winnie? I’m quite bewildered with all this humour.” “I don’t love him, father,” she said, with tearful eyes. Canon Spratte, quite unable to comprehend, stared at her helplessly. “The girl’s mad,” he cried, looking at Lady Sophia. But Winnie felt it was no longer possible to hold back the truth. She braced herself for the contest and looked firmly into her father’s eyes. “I’m already engaged to be married, papa.” “You? And to whom, pray?” “I’m engaged to Bertram Railing.” “Good God!” Lady Sophia also uttered a cry of dismay, and even her uncle, though he had maliciously suggested the possibility, was no less dumfounded. In his heart he had been convinced that Winnie was far too worldly-wise to commit herself to a doubtful marriage, and he would have sworn she was incapable of a daring act. Then, against his will, the humour of the situation occurred to him, and he smothered a little laugh. But Canon Spratte, infuriated, with all his senses on the alert, divined rather than noticed this offensive merriment. He turned upon his brother angrily.