III
In two minutes, or rather less as time is measured in Elysium, Mr. Charles Cheesewright had entered that pleasant room with all the gay assurance of an accepted suitor.
"How awfully well it reads, doesn't it?" he said, taking up the Morning Post with the fingers of a lover.
"Uncle Jacob's baronetcy?" said Mary, with an eye of bold mischief.
"Oh, no! That's a bit of a bore," said Mr. Charles with a polite grimace.
"Why a bore?"
"Uncle Jacob has no heir and he's trying to arrange for me to be the second bart."
Princess Bedalia looked with a royal air at her favorite. "The truth is, dear Charles, you are shamelessly pleased about the whole matter."
"Well, ye-es, I am." Charles was hopelessly cornered, but like any other self-respecting Briton he was quite determined to put as good a face as possible upon a most damaging admission. "I am so awfully pleased for Milly. And, of course, for Uncle Jacob."
"Not to mention Aunt Priscilla," interposed Milly. It was her proud boast that she had already tried a fall with Aunt Priscilla, had tried it, moreover, pretty successfully. That lady, within her own orbit, was a great light, but Miss Wren had proved very well able for her so far. The Aunt Priscillas of the world were not going to harry Miss Wren, and it was by no means clear that this simple fact did not count as much to her honor in
