"If I can help it, she shall never many a man who always doubles spades"
"One of these days you won't have a say in the matter! She'll be of age, and able to marry anyone she likes!" said Bottiger thickly.
"That's quite another matter," I said calmly. "Then I shall be quit of all responsibility. But I think, I honestly think, that she is growing a sound enough player to have learned by that time the folly of marrying a man who always doubles spades at Bridge."
Bottiger's next words, and they were not a few, were a handsome tribute to my powers of shelving an unwelcome subject. They dealt entirely with my own character, and we parted in some coldness at the restaurant door. But I observed that the next time we played Bridge, he did not always double spades.
Neither his coldness, nor that of Chelubai, lasted long. For one thing they knew me too well to be surprised at my uncompromising attitude to their design; for another, if they were on bad terms with me, they could not enjoy the society of Angel. For my part, though I resented their hopes, I bore them no malice for my refusal, and we were soon on our old terms.
I was for some time in two minds about telling Angel of their proposals; then one day, after trying to banish one of her fits of gloom by every
