Now bend your sage brows to the question of what we ought to do.

Or, to phrase it this fashion, What ought I to do ?" "Go to Mrs.Hanway-Harley and ask for her daughter." Richard winced and made a wry face.
"I'd sooner go to Storri.

The rascal might give me a reason for thrashing him." "You are on no account to mention Dorothy's name to Storri." "No ?" somewhat ruefully.
"And you are to beat him only should he mention Dorothy's name to you." "I shall;" and Richard brightened.
"Storri asked Mrs.Hanway-Harley for her daughter.

I should think you might summon up an equal courage." "But I haven't the advantage of being a Russian nobleman," returned Richard, with one of his cynical grins.
"Still you must ask Mrs.Hanway-Harley for Dorothy; and no later, mind you, than to-morrow night." Bess tossed her head as though a fiat had gone forth.
"Well," said Richard, drawing a deep breath, "if you have any such junk as a Joss about the house, I'd take it friendly if you would burn a handful of prayer-sticks in my interest." Then, with all love's softness, to Dorothy: "Your mother will say No; she will not entertain your views on poverty, little one." Dorothy came behind Richard's chair and pressed her cheek to his.
"Whatever she may say, whatever anyone may say, you, and only you, dearest, shall have me," and Dorothy signed the promise after the fashion popular with lovers.
Storri came that evening to see Mrs.Hanway-Harley.

Both parties were acting, Storri affecting melancholy while he was on fire with passionate rage, and Mrs.Hanway-Harley assuming the role of the mother who, although she regrets, is still tenderly unwilling to control those wrongly headstrong courses upon which her child is bent.