“This is most interesting!” Hammond frowned sternly at the fair interrupter. “Wait! ‘_Some time ago it was generally rumored in the constituency that you were likely to lead to the altar Lady Victoria Hildegonde Jane Beauchamp-Mauleverer_, only _daughter of the most noble the Marquis of Severn, K.G.--_’” “He must have looked me up in Whitaker’s ‘Titled Persons.’” “‘_And the news gave us the greatest satisfaction, as it was felt that by so doing you would greatly strengthen your social prestige, and thereby deprive the Liberals of their advantage in having secured a baronet as their candidate--_’” “He quite crushes you there.” “‘_But I regret to state that a report has now reached us that this marriage is not likely to come off, and your enemies have the audacity to allege that you are contemplating a union with a singer on the music-hall stage whose name has been a target for the breath of scandal. Your friends have, of course, indignantly denied the rumor, but we think it would be desirable in your interest that you should at once write me a formal contradiction, which could be inserted, if necessary, in the local press. Trusting you will see your way to do this, and apologizing for the liberty I have taken, with very kind regards, I am, yours sincerely_, “‘EDWARD DOBBIN.’” “He gets rather prosy towards the end, doesn’t he?” commented Victoria, who had listened in silence to that part of the letter. “You haven’t heard the postscript,” said Hammond. “‘P.S.--_If you could at the same time authorize me to announce your engagement to Lady Beauchamp-Mauleverer, we consider it would have an excellent effect._’” “Artful old thing! He is almost as bad as my mother.” Hammond folded up the letter and put it back in his pocket. “Well, now, what do you advise me to do?” “Oh, send the contradiction, by all means.” “And what about the further announcement?” Their eyes met seriously for the first time. Victoria answered, in the same light tone: “Well, it seems a pity to disappoint him.” “Then you won’t contradict it?” “No, I never write to the papers.” Hammond bent forward respectfully. “Thank you. May I kiss your hand?” “If you will promise not to be sentimental,” said Victoria, yielding gracefully. “I think I can promise that,” said Hammond, with secret bitterness. And he bowed over the white fingers, wondering if this woman really wished to be his wife, while Victoria wondered in her turn why on earth this man wanted to marry her. They were not left long in their mutual embarrassment. The marchioness was burning with impatience to learn the result of her arduous campaign, and as soon as she thought she had given the lovers time enough to adjust matters she returned to the spot, Despencer being admitted to share the anticipated triumph. “So you are still here!” the mother exclaimed, with innocent surprise. “I hope that girl has not been shocking you very much, Mr. Hammond?”