“How?  Show me.”

“I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about.  It’s my other side of the moon.  But I was portentous, I can assure you.  ’My name’s not More, Mr. Stanley,’ I said.  ‘That’s my pet name.’”

“Yes?”

“I think—­yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ’The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes.  I do wish you could come and dine with us some evening.  It would make my wife very happy.’”

“What did he say?”

“What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank?  One tries to collect one’s wits.  ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said.”

“And he accepted meekly?”

“Practically.  What else could he do?  You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him.  With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do?  And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—­I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I?  He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—­what is a wide crimson ribbon?  Some sort of knight, I suppose.  He is a knight.  ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘we haven’t seen you lately,’ and something about ’Bateson & Co.’—­he’s frightfully anti-Mendelian—­having it all their own way.  So I introduced him to my father-in-law like a shot.  I think that was decision.  Yes, it was Manningtree really secured your father.  He—­”

“Here they are!” said Ann Veronica as the bell sounded.

Part 2

They received the guests in their pretty little hall with genuine effusion.  Miss Stanley threw aside a black cloak to reveal a discreet and dignified arrangement of brown silk, and then embraced Ann Veronica with warmth.  “So very clear and cold,” she said.  “I feared we might have a fog.”  The housemaid’s presence acted as a useful restraint.  Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek.  “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears.  She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat.  “And this is Mr. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying.

All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement.

Mr. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands.  “Quite unusually cold for the time of year,” he said.  “Everything very nice, I am sure,” Miss Stanley murmured to Capes as he steered her to a place upon the little sofa before the fire.  Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature.

“And let’s have a look at you, Vee!” said Mr. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together.

Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard.