And so it was settled that the fiction of
Dicky's and my engagement should be permitted to continue to any extent
that seemed necessary until Mr. Dod should be able to persuade Miss
Portheris to fly with him across the Channel and be married at a Dover
registry office. We arranged everything with great precision, and, if
necessary, I was to fly too, to make it a little more proper. We were
both somewhat doubtful about the necessity of a bridesmaid in a registry
office, but we agreed that such a thing would go a long way towards
persuading Isabel to enter it.
When we arrived at the hotel we found Mrs. Portheris and Mr. Mafferton
affectionately having tea with my parents. Isabel had gone to bed with a
headache, but Dicky, notwithstanding, displayed the most unfeeling
spirits. He drove us all finally to see the tomb of Juliet in the Vicolo
Franceschini, and it was before that uninspiring stone trough full of
visiting cards, behind a bowling green of suburban patronage, that I
heard him, on general grounds of expediency, make contrite advances to
Mrs. Portheris.
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