"Because," he said, "if you would, you shall!"
"You'll puzzle me to my dying day," I answered. "And how be it in your
power to give me Arthur Parable, supposing I was to want him? It's a
delicate subject," I said, "and he will never take another, having all he
wanted with his first."
"Don't jaw," my son answered me. "For once I can do you a turn; but if
you're going to bleat about it, I shall not. Do you want Arthur Parable,
or don't you?"
An indecent man was Rupert, and always above any of them nice shades in
conversation that manners point to and proper feeling expects. However,
that sort don't think the worse of you for sinking to their level, and I
well understood that he meant what he said and would be off if I didn't
answer straight.
"Between mother and son, I may speak," I answered Rupert, "and if you want
to know, though what business it is of yours I can't say, I should be
willing to take Mr. Parable if the idea got in his mind."
"Right then," answered Rupert. "It damn soon will get in his mind."
And he was gone.
I heard the end of the tale next day, when Arthur himself looked in.
He was a bit comical tempered at first, but he thawed out after a drop and
asked me to marry him, and I asked whether it was from the heart, or there
lay anything behind. And then he told me that Rupert had been to see him
and told him that I wanted him cruel and that he must take me; and that if
he didn't, he wouldn't wed Minnie! "Your son's a man," said Arthur, "as I
won't neighbour with, Mary, and you mustn't expect I shall; but there's a
hateful, cold-blooded power about your Rupert.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140