'It crossed my mind.'
'He is not.'
'I have only your word for it.'
'You can have his if you want it. There is the telephone. You can have
him here in ten minutes if you want to see him.'
'A very good idea. But, as it happens, I do not want to see him. There
is no necessity. His views on this matter do not interest me. I......'
There was a hurried knock at the door. Bailey burst in, ruffled and
wild as to the eyes.
'Father,' he cried, 'I don't want to interrupt you, but that infernal
woman, Aunt Lora, has arrived, and says she won't go till she has seen
you. She's downstairs now.'
'Not now,' said Lora Delane Porter, moving him to one side and entering
the room. 'I thought it would be a comfort to you, Ruth, to have me
with you to help explain exactly how matters stand. Good evening, John.
Go away, Bailey. Now let us discuss things quietly.'
'She is responsible for the whole thing, father,' cried Bailey.
Mr. Bannister rose.
'There is nothing to discuss,' he said shortly. 'I have no wish to
speak to you at all. As you appear to have played a large part in this
affair, I may as well tell you that it is settled. Ruth will not marry
Mr. Winfield.'
Lora Delane Porter settled herself comfortably in a chair. She drew off
her gloves and placed them on the table.
'Please ask that boy Bailey to go,' she said. 'He annoys me. I cannot
marshal my thoughts in his presence.'
Quelled by her eye, Bailey removed himself. His father remained
standing. Ruth, who had risen at her aunt's entry, sat down again. Mrs.
Porter looked round the room with some approval.
'You have a nice taste in pictures, John,' she said. 'That is a Corot,
surely, above the mantelpiece?'
'Will you......'
'But about this little matter. You dislike the idea of Ruth marrying
Mr. Winfield? Have you seen Mr. Winfield?'
'I have not.'
'Then how can you possibly decide whether he is a fit husband for
Ruth?'
'I know all about him.'
'What do you know?'
'What Ruth has told me. That he is a loafer who pretends to be an
artist.'
'He is a poor artist. I grant you that. His drawing is weak. But are
you aware that he is forty-three inches round the chest, six feet tall,
and in perfect physical condition?'
'What has that got to do with it?'
'Everything. You have not read my 'Principles of Selection'?'
'I have not.'
'I will send you a copy to-morrow.'
'I will burn it directly it arrives.'
