Mr. Tuke could not but be conscious of this saucy subordination of his claims as a man of position. It entertained or aggravated him, according to his humour, to watch this variable maid playing off his servant against himself in the innocuous subtilties of coquetry. He could not be expected to take the effrontery seriously, and he was not so deeply in love but that he could see the humour of the girl’s capricious attitude towards him. “But I am called upon to be aware of it,” he thought; “and I must effect to puzzle my brain over the question of what I can have done to imperil myself in her favour.” So he looked distressed--when he remembered to--and all the time thought none the less of Miss Royston for so representing the charming whimsies of the fascinating of her sex. “This rascally crew,” said Sir David, “we make it our business to anticipate, if a thorough ransackin’ of the whole house will serve our purpose.” Miss Angela jumped to her feet. “Oh, Davy!” she cried, “have you reached it at last? And our wits running ahead of yours from the first. What a solemn conclusion, little man! Only we came to it before you opened your mouth to speak. And here sits Mr. Tuke like a Lord Justice patiently waiting the verdict he hath directed.” “You are a very knowin’ magpie,” said her brother, with a wag of his round head, “but you ain’t as clever as you’d take the credit for. I’ve given you the steps to a conclusion, that’s all; and now I’ll warrant you’ll go flingin’ off the last into space.” “Brava!” cried the lady, clapping her hands. “All that is obvious goes for nothin’, as the philosopher would say: for, like all philosophers, he is a little shaky in his finalities. And now for the profound deduction.” “You impident baggage!” exclaimed the lord of “Chatters.” He had been quite in his element, taking judicial charge of the affair, drawing inferences and suggesting methods; and this irrepressible sister of his would do her worst to make him appear ridiculous. “Tuke,” he said, turning to that silent and amused gentleman, “when you marry, marry a fool that knows herself to be one.” “Indeed,” said the other, “that is easy; for any one that took me must needs answer to that description. Never hold me conceited after that, Miss Royston.” Now, Heaven knows what Angela here chose to read between the lines; but she responded most icily: “I doubt I shall take much interest in the matter, sir; though speaking generally, there seems to me no conceit like exaggerated humility.” She sat herself down again, her lips set forbiddingly. Sir David grinned, mentally scoring a little spiteful victory, and Mr. Tuke looked very much bewildered and abashed.