Part 13 (1/2)
And if at first I don't succeed I must try, try again. If the one you pick out refuses me I'll have to get you to pick out another.”
”So it's a mere marriage of convenience you are after?” the girl asked.
”That's all very well for you, no doubt; but how about the woman who marries you? I don't think it's a very nice lookout for her, do you?
That's just the way with you men always! You never think about the woman's feelings!”
”I'll do my duty to her,” he answered.
”Your _duty_!” sniffed the girl, indignantly.
”I'll be so attentive to her that she will never guess my heart is given to another,” he went on.
”Don't be too sure of that,” she returned. ”Women have very sharp eyes--sharper than you men think--especially about a thing like that!”
”I am not going to borrow trouble,” the Doctor declared, suavely. ”I shall always be as nice to her as I can, and if it is in my power to make her happy, then she will be happy. But we needn't antic.i.p.ate. What I want you to do now is to help me to find the right woman. It will be my business to take care of her afterward.”
”Oh, very well,” said the girl, rather sharply. ”Have you anybody in particular in view?”
”I haven't really fixed on anybody yet,” he explained. ”I wanted your advice first, for I'm going to rely on that. I feel sure you won't let me make a mistake about a matter so important to me.”
”Then don't let's waste any time!” she cried, peremptorily.
”Really,” he declared, ”it's astonis.h.i.+ng how a little bit of a thing like you can be so bossy.” She looked at him fiercely, so he made haste to add, ”But I like it--I like it!”
The girl laughed, but with a certain constraint, so it seemed to him.
”Come, now,” she said, ”if I must help you, let me see your list of proposed victims!”
”Do you know Dr. Pennington, the rector of St. Boniface's, in Philadelphia?” he began. ”Well, he has two daughters--nice girls, both of them--”
”Which one do you want?” asked the girl. ”The tall one who squints, or the fat one with red hair?”
”Come, now,” he returned, ”she doesn't really squint, you know.”
”Call it a cast in her eye if you like; I don't mind. It isn't anything to me,” she a.s.serted. ”Is it the tall one you want?”
”I don't care,” he answered.
”You don't care?” she repeated.
”No,” he returned; ”that's why I've come to you. I don't care. Which one do you recommend?”
”I don't recommend either of them!” she responded, promptly. ”I shouldn't be a true friend if I let you throw yourself away on one of those frights!”
”I'll give them up, if you say so,” said he; ”but I've always heard that they are good, quiet girls--domesticated, you know--and--”
”Who is next?” she pursued, with a return of her arbitrary manner.
”Well,” he suggested, bashfully, ”I haven't any reason to suppose she would look at me, and it sounds so conceited in me to suggest that such a handsome woman--and so rich, too--would listen to me, but--”
”Who is this paragon?” his companion demanded.