Part 71 (2/2)

'You see you've been a comin' to Lubbertoo off and on for mighty nigh a month, and as the parents of a family it's time I as't your intentions.'

'Intentions!' Tom stammered, trying to draw his arm from Peterkin's.

But he might as well have tried to wrench it from a vise, for Peterkin held it fast and went on:

'Yes, intentions! Thunderation, hain't a chap 'sposed to have intentions when he hangs round a gal who has money like my Ann 'Liza! I tell you what, Thomas,' and his manner became very insinuating and frank, 'as nigh as I can kalkerlate I'm worth three millions, fair and square, and there's three on 'em to divide it amongst--May Jane, Bill, and Ann 'Liza. Now, s'posin' we say three into three million, don't it leave a million?'

Tom acknowledged that it did, and Peterkin continued:

'Jess so. Now I ain't one of them mean skunks that wants his folks to wait till he's dead afore they enjoys themselves; and the day my Ann 'Liza is married, I plank down a million in hard cash for her and her husband to do what they darned please with; cut a dash in Europe as Hal is doin', if they like, or cut a splurge to hum, it's all one to me. I call that square, don't you?'

Tom admitted that he did, and Peterkin went on:

'Now, then, I ain't goin't to have Ann 'Liza's affections trifled with, and if I catch a feller a doin' on't, d'ye know what I'll do?'

Tom could not guess, and Peterkin continued:

'I'll lick him within an inch of his life, and then set the dogs on him, and heave him inter the river! See?'

It was not a warm day, but Tom was perspiring at every pore as he saw presented to him the choice between a million or to be 'licked within an inch of his life and then dogged into the river.' Naturally he chose the first as the lesser evil of the two, and began to lie as he had never lied in his life before. He was very glad, he said, that Peterkin had broached the subject, as it made matters easier for him by showing him that his suit might not be rejected, as he had feared it might be.

'You know, of course, Mr. Peterkin,' he said, 'that I am a poor young man, with no expectations whatever, for though Uncle Arthur has settled something upon father, I cannot depend upon that, and how could I dare to look as high as your daughter without some encouragement?'

'Encouragement, boy? Great Scott!' and releasing Tom's arm, Peterkin hit him a friendly slap, which nearly knocked him down. 'Great Scott! What do you call encouragement? When a gal is so fl.u.s.tified at seeing you, and so tickled that she tetters right up and down, while her mother hunts heaven and earth for t.i.t-bits to tickle your palate with--quail on toast, mushrooms, sweet-breads, and the Lord knows what--ain't that a sign they are willin'? Thunder and guns! what would you have? Ann 'Liza can't up and say ”Marry me, Tom;” nor I can't up and say, ”Thomas, marry my daughter,” can I? But if you want to marry her, say so like a man, and I swan I'll meet you like a man, and a father!'

Alas for Tom! he had nothing left him to do except to say that he wished to marry Ann Eliza, and that he would come the next evening and tell her so.

It was Peterkin who answered his ring when he presented himself at the door of Le Bateau, Peterkin more inflated and pompous than ever as he shook the young man's hand, calling him Thomas--a name which aggravated him beyond all description--and telling him to go right into the parlor, where he would find Ann 'Liza waitin' for him, and where they could bill and coo as much as they liked, for he and May Jane would keep out of the way and give 'em a chance.

Even then Tom cast one despairing glance toward the door, with a half resolve to bolt; but Peterkin was behind him, pus.h.i.+ng him on to his fate, which, after all, was not so very bad when he came to face it.

There was nothing low, or mean, or coa.r.s.e about Ann Eliza, who, but for her very bright red hair, would have been called pretty by some, and who was by no means ill-looking, even with her red hair, as she stood up to receive her lover, with a droop in her eyes, and a flush on her cheeks; for she knew the object of his visit, into which he plunged at once. He did not say that he loved her, but he asked her in a straightforward way to be his wife, and then waited for her answer, which was not long in coming, for Ann Eliza was no dissembler. She loved Tom Tracy with her whole soul, and felt herself honored in being sought by him.

'Oh, Tom!' she said, while the tears shone in her eyes, which Tom noticed for the first time were large and clear and very blue. 'It does not seem possible for you to love me, but, if you really do, I will be your wife and try to make you happy, and--and--'

She hesitated a moment and then went on:

'Save you as much as possible from father. We cannot live here; you and he would not get on; he means well and is the kindest of fathers to me, but he is not like you, and we must go away.'

She was really a very sensible girl, Tom thought, and in his joy at finding her so sensible he stooped and kissed her forehead as the proper thing for him to do, while she, the poor little mistaken girl, threw herself into his arms and began to cry, she was so glad and happy.

Tom did not know exactly what he ought to do. It was a novel situation for him to be in, with a girl sobbing on his bosom, and his first impulse was to push her off; but when he remembered that she represented a million of dollars, he did what half the men in the world would have done in his place: he held her close and tried to quiet her, and told her he was not half good enough for her, and knew in his heart he was telling the truth, and felt within him that stirring of a resolve that she should never know he did not love her, and that he would make her happy, if he could.

And so they were betrothed without much billing and cooing, and Peterkin came in with Mary Jane and made a speech half-an-hour long to his future son-in-law, and settled just when they were to be married and what they were to do.

Christmas week was the time, and he vowed he'd give 'em a wedding which should take the starch entirely out of Gusty Browne, whose mother, Mrs.

Rossiter Browne, would think Gusty was never married at all when she saw what he could do. Greatly he lamented that Harold and Jerry could not be present. 'But they'll see it in the papers,' he said, 'for I'll have a four column notice, if I write it myself, and pay for it too! And when you meet 'em in Europe you can tell 'em what they missed.'

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