“What!” cried the Canon. “Capital! Capital! My dear fellow, I’m delighted to hear it. You know I couldn’t have wanted a better son-in-law. My dear child!” He opened his arms and Winnie hid her face on his bosom. He kissed her affectionately, and then with sincere warmth shook hands with Wroxham. “All’s well that ends well,” he cried. “I knew she was devoted to you, my boy. Trust me for knowing a woman’s character.” “Papa’s wonderful,” said Winnie, with a laugh, stretching out her hand to Wroxham. “You’ve made me very happy,” he said. They discussed the situation for some time, and Canon Spratte was very bland. His wildest hopes had never led him to expect that Winnie would throw herself there and then into Wroxham’s eligible arms; but an occasional glance, partly of amusement, was his only sign of surprise. The young man, promising to return for dinner, went away at last, and Theodore looked at his daughter for an explanation. She stood near a table, and began nervously to turn over the pages of a book. A smile broke on the Canon’s lips, for her embarrassment told him all he wished to know. “Would it be indiscreet to inquire when you broke off your engagement with Mr. Railing?” he asked. Winnie looked up. “I haven’t broken it off.” “And do you intend to marry them both?” She quickly closed the book and went up to him. “Oh, papa, you must help me,” she cried. “I’m simply distracted and I don’t know what to do.” “But which of them do you propose to marry?” “Oh, don’t be unkind, father. Except for you I should never have met that man. I hate him. I’m ashamed that he ever kissed me.” “Which, my love?” he asked, as though quite perplexed. “I have every reason to believe that both embraced you.” “Papa!” There was a pause. The Canon felt that he would be wanting in his paternal duties if he took again to his bosom a prodigal daughter without pointing out clearly the nature of her misdeeds. Some reproof, tender but dignified, gentle but explicit, was surely needed. The child had flatly disobeyed his commands. “Do I understand that the fact that Mrs. Railing drops her aitches and drinks gin, while her daughter is bumptious and vulgar, has had any effect upon your attachment to Mr. Bertram Railing?” “You asked them to come here, you knew what would happen,” answered Winnie, flushing. “Oh, father, don’t be cruel. I made a fool of myself. He took me unawares and I thought for a moment that I could live his life. But I’m frightened of him.” He said, gravely: “Which do you honestly prefer?” For a moment she hesitated, then with a little sob replied: “I love them both.” “I beg your pardon!” exclaimed her father, who did not in the least await such an answer. “When I’m with one I think he’s so much nicer than the other.” “Really, Winnie, you can’t shilly-shally in this way,” he said, considerably annoyed. “You’ve just told me you couldn’t bear young Railing.”