Then Conolly sat down, and waited.
"Ahem!" said Mr.Lind.

"I have to speak to you with--with reference to--to a--a matter which has accidentally come to my knowledge.

It would be painful and unnecessary--quite unnecessary, to go into particulars." Conolly remained politely attentive, but said nothing.

Mr.Lind began to feel very angry, but this helped him to the point.
"I merely wish--that is, I quite wish you to understand that any intimacy that may have arisen between you and--and a member of my family must--must, in short, be considered to be at an end.

My daughter is--I may tell you--engaged to Mr.Sholto Douglas, whom you know; and therefore--you understand." "Mr.Lind," said Conolly, decisively: "your daughter is engaged to me." Mr.Lind lost his temper, and rose, exclaiming, "I beg you will not repeat that, either here or elsewhere." "Pray be seated," said Conolly courteously.
"I have nothing more to say, sir." Conolly rose, as though the interview were at an end, and seemed to wait for his visitor to go.
"We understand one another, I presume," said Mr.Lind, dubiously.
"Not quite, I think," said Conolly, relenting.