"Said she didn't in the least mind getting her feet wet. She'd have her boots off as soon as she got into the house." "Is that all?" "She said she was awfully heavy, and--Oh, there is no use talking to me. I know how to take a hint. She just didn't want me to--er--carry her, that's the long and the short of it." "Did she struggle violently?" "What?" "You heard me. Did she?" "Certainly not. She gave in when I insisted. What else could she do?" He whirled suddenly upon Mr. Bramble. "What are you grinning about, Bramby?" "Who's grinning?" demanded Mr. Bramble indignantly, after the lapse of thirty or forty seconds. "You _were_, confound you. I don't see anything to laugh at in--" "My advice to you," broke in M. Mirabeau, still detached, "is to ask her." "Ask her? Ask her what?" "To marry you. As I was saying--" "My God!" gasped Trotter. "That is my advice also," put in Mr. Bramble, fumbling with his glasses and trying to suppress a smile,--for fear it would be misinterpreted. "I can't think of anything more admirable than the union of the Temple and Wexham families in--" "But, good Lord," cried Trotter, "even if she'd have me, how on earth could I take care of her on a chauffeur's pay? And I'm not getting that now. I wish to call your attention to the fact that your little hero has less than fifty pounds,--a good deal less than fifty,--laid by for a rainy day." "I've known a great many people who were married on rainy days," said M. Mirabeau brightly, "and nothing unlucky came of it." "Moreover, when your grandfather passes away," urged Mr. Bramble, "you will be a very rich man,--provided, of course, he doesn't remain obstinate and leave his money to some one else. In any event, you would come in for sufficient to--" "You forget," began Trotter, gravely and with a dignity that chilled the eager old man, "that I will not go back to England, nor will I claim anything that is _in_ England, until a certain injustice is rectified and I am set straight in the eyes of the unbelievers." Mr. Bramble cleared his throat. "Time will clear up everything, my lad. God knows you never did the--" "God knows it all right enough, but God isn't a member of the Brunswick Club, and His voice is never heard there in counsel. He may lend a helping hand to those who are trying to clear my name, because they believe in me, but the whole business is beginning to look pretty dark to me." "Ahem! What does Miss--ah, Lady Jane think about the--ah, unfortunate affair?" stammered Mr. Bramble. "She doesn't believe a damn' word of it," exploded Trotter, his face lighting up.