"Yes, uncle?"

"How is it now? Like my girl any better?"

"Why--yes! Oh, she's fine! And yet I--"

"You must say? What must you say?"

"Nothing much; only that she's not the kind to seem like the owner of a
field battery. My goodness! uncle, if she had half Miss Flora's tang--"

"She hasn't the least need of it! She's the quiet kind, sir, that fools
who love 'tang' overlook!"

"Yes," laughed Hilary, "she's quiet; quiet as a fortification by
moonlight! Poor Fred! I wish--"

"Well, thank God you wish in vain! That's just been settled. I asked
him--oh, don't look surprised at _me_. Good Lord! hadn't I the right to
know?"

The two rode some way in silence. "I wish," mused the nephew aloud, "it
could be as he wants it."

The uncle's smile was satirical: "Did you ever, my boy, wish anything
could be as _I_ want it?"

"Now, uncle, there's a big difference--"