"I did not know you were engaged," he said quite frankly. "Anna certainly has never told me. Of course, I congratulate you. She is a very beautiful girl, Forrest."
"That's true, old chap. You might see her in the paddock and pick her at a glance--eh, what? But it's mum at present--not a whistle to the old man until the south wind blows. And don't you tell Anna either. She'd marry somebody else if she thought I was really in love with her--eh, what?"
Alban shrugged his shoulders but had nothing to say. They had now come to the famous Achilles Statue in Hyde Park, and there they walked for half an hour amidst the showily dressed women on the lawn. Willy Forrest was known to many of these and everywhere appeared sure of a familiar welcome. The very men, who would tell you aside that he was a "wrong 'un," nodded affably to him and sometimes stopped to ask him what was going to win the Oaks. He patronized a few pretty girls with condescending recognition and immediately afterwards would relate to Alban the more intimate and often scandalous stories of their families. At a later moment they espied Anna herself in a superb victoria drawn by two strawberry roans. And to their intense astonishment they perceived that she had the Reverend Silas Geary in the carriage by her side.
"A clever little devil, upon my soul," said the Captain, ecstatically, "to cart that fire-escape round and show him to the crowd. She must have done it to annoy me--eh, what? She thinks I'm not so much an angel as I look and is going to make me good. Oh, my stars--let's get. I shall be saying the catechism if I stop here any longer."