that I had determined her. She was so good as to listen most appreciatively to what I had to say."
"And, pray, what had you to say?" Mrs. Beever asked with austerity.
In the presence of a rigour so immediate he found himself so embarrassed that he considered. "Well—everything. I took the liberty of urging Paul's claim."
Mrs. Beever stared. "Very good of you! What did you think you had to do with it?"
"Why, whatever my great desire that she should accept him gave me."
"Your great desire that she should accept him? This is the first I've heard of it."
Once more Tony pondered. "Did I never speak of it to you?"
"Never that I can remember. From when does it date?" Mrs. Beever demanded.
"From the moment I really understood how much Paul had to hope."
"How 'much'?" the lady of Eastmead derisively repeated. "It wasn't so much that you need have been at such pains to make it less!"
Tony's comprehension of his friend's discomfiture
