Guy had to state that his father, splendid old fellow as he was, none better, was very prejudiced and, as his son put it with more than filial frankness, "as obstinate as a mule." Isobel nodded her pretty dark head. "I understand quite. He will want you to marry in your own station of life, choose a girl who has been brought up in the same world." Guy nodded. "You've hit it. A sort of girl who would know, by inherited instinct, all the sort of tricks that are expected from an ambassador's wife. You see, I take it for granted I am going to be an ambassador." Isobel looked at him fondly. In her present rapturous mood, she thought he could be anything he liked, if he gave his mind to it. Then Guy spoke quite gravely and seriously. "Now, we have got to consider the two fathers, yours and mine. We will take yours first, because I think he'll do whatever you tell him." "He generally does," replied Isobel, with a smile that showed all her dimples. "Good. I leave to-morrow, you are off the day after. Don't tell him anything till you get back to Eastbourne. Then let him know exactly what has passed between us to-day, that I have admitted frankly I shall have a hard job on my part. I want to get my father's consent, because I wish you to be welcomed by the family. Dear old Aunt Henrietta will never interfere with me, she's too good a sort." "Yes," answered Isobel happily. "I will tell him all that." "And please add that I should wish to come down to Eastbourne, as soon as convenient to him, and put all the facts before him. I want first to get his consent, and I know I am asking it under peculiar circumstances." A slight cloud gathered over the girl's lovely face. "I am quite sure of my darling old dad," she said. "I'm a little afraid of yours." "There's nothing to be frightened of, sweetheart," said her lover confidently. "Whether he gives his consent or not, you are going to be my wife. I'm quite independent of him. But, as I said just now, I would prefer to bring him round before, instead of after." "But do you think that possible?" inquired Isobel anxiously. Guy reflected. "It's a pretty even chance," he said presently. "And, you see. I've got Mary on my side." Isobel lifted questioning eyes. "You have never spoken of Mary before. Who is she? I suppose your sister?" "Yes, my sister, and the sweetest, dearest girl in the wide world. Just an angel without the wings, and they are growing, I believe. Not that she is meek and mild, and all that sort of thing. She can hit out as straight from the shoulder as a man when she chooses. But tell her a tale of two true lovers, and she will never be happy till she brings them together." "What a darling!" cried Isobel, in deep admiration. "How I should love to meet her." "No difficulty about that," answered Guy easily. "As soon as I have arranged matters with the General, we will fix up a little lunch in London. You bring your father up; I'll bring Mary up."