“There is a father,” said Tracy slowly. “He was here at the beginning of their stay. He does not signify, and, which is important, he is of those that truckle. Were I to make myself known to him, I believe I might marry the girl within an hour. But I do not want that. At least⁠—not yet.”

“Good God, Tracy! do you think you are living in the Dark Ages? One cannot do these things now, I tell you! Will you not at least remember that you represent our house? ’Twill be a pretty thing an there is a scandal!” She broke off hopelessly and watched him flick a remnant of snuff from his cravat.

“Oh, Tracy! ’Tis indeed a dangerous game you play. Pray consider!”

“Really, Lavinia, you are most entertaining. I trust I am capable of caring for myself and mine own honour.”

“Oh, don’t sneer⁠—don’t sneer!” she cried. “Sometimes I think I quite hate you!”