Napier took refuge in a rapid survey of Julian's character and advantages.
"Do you know," she broke in, "you're talking to me about Mr. Grant as if you were recommending a chauffeur. He belongs, I gather, to a reputable family; he's steady; he was a long time in his last place; sober, very, _very_ sober! But I really don't need any testimonials to Mr. Grant's character," she wound up under her breath, as that young man emerged gloomily from the room at the bottom of the hall.
"I say, there are _millions_ of coats here."
He _had_ been an ass! The sole gain, as Napier saw it, out of a rather ridiculous encounter was to establish the fact of the girl's sensitiveness for Julian's dignity.
For Sir William, the Kirklamont charm worked well. Again the next morning he slept late. There was in consequence rather more bustle than usual attendant on his departure. Nan Ellis had rushed over early to say good-by. It struck Napier that she was both grave and excited. She joined him for an instant at the table, where he stood putting some papers into the despatch box.
"Do _you_ want me to?" she asked in a low voice, as though continuing a conversation.
"Yes, to marry Julian." Then, quick as the darting of a dragon-fly, she pounced on his possible answer. "I sha'n't do it--not even for you. But if that's what you _want_, I'd just like to know." She waited. Napier, too, for once in his life tongue-tied.
"Well, good-by everybody. Isn't that lazy dog Bobby down yet?" Sir William demanded.
"He's where he always is these days," answered Madge; "gone off to Glenfallon."
"Wrong!" Bobby was striding into the hall by the side door. He looked rather glum for Bobby.
"Find your friends out of sorts?" Sir William inquired, with his shrewd look. "Nasty jar for Carl and Ernst, opening their newspapers this morning." Sir William was not forgetting to keep an eye on the private case and the summer mackintosh on their way into the car. "Well, what do they think about the war _now_? Eh, what?"
"I don't suppose I shall ever know what they think," his son answered.
"I can't think why you say that, dear," his mother remonstrated. "I don't find them at all reserved. They talk with perfect freedom to _me_."
"Well, they won't any more. They're gone," said Bobby.