Part 34 (1/2)
”But she knows who I am and who you are, and, surely, it's something to ask a nameless girl to marry into a family like ours.”
”I confess I expected she would be more impressed than she is.”
”Does she know she's got the tin?”
”I don't think so. She thinks we have the wealth and the position, and everything else.”
”And yet she doesn't jump. I'd no idea she'd hold out as she is doing.”
”You'll have to humour her, Gervase. I've told you from the first she's not to be driven. Sympathise with her in what you call her heroics.
Encourage her in her mental flight after great ideals.”
Gervase shook his head, and looked blank. ”It's no use, father,” he said, despondingly, ”I should only make a fool of myself if I tried.
Nature never gave me any wings of that sort.”
”At any rate, don't contradict her, and call her a goose, and a.s.sume the airs of a superior person.”
”But surely I know a mighty lot more than she does. Think of my age and experience, and remember I haven't travelled over half the world with my eyes shut.”
”It is not experience of the world, but knowledge of the ways of women you want. It isn't strength, but diplomacy that you need.”
”You think she will come round in time, don't you?”
”Oh, yes! I think so, provided you play your cards with skill. She has never said 'no' has she?”
”That isn't the trouble exactly. She has never said 'yes,' and until she says it I'm not safe. You know she comes of age in May.”
”Well?”
”You take it very coolly, father,” Gervase said, in a tone of irritation. ”I don't think it is at all well. Madeline is my only hope.
Unless I marry a rich woman I'm stranded--absolutely stranded.”
”You've not been getting into deeper debt, I hope?”
”I've not been getting into shallower water, you may bet your bottom dollar on that.”
”Am I to understand that you have been antic.i.p.ating events?”
”I have a little. I thought I was perfectly safe in doing so. Your letters indicated that the way was quite clear, that Madeline looked upon the thing as settled, that she knew it was her father's wish, that you were quite agreeable, that everything was as straight as straight could be.”
”But I never saw her letters to you.”
”They were almost entirely satisfactory, I can a.s.sure you. She did not accept my proposal, it is true. But--well--she couldn't have written in a more friendly way. She thought we should meet again first, that was all. No hint of any delay after I came back.”
”I hope you haven't been disappointing her in some way.”
”I believe she is a bit disappointed at my retiring from the army. Like most girls, she dotes on a soldier. She loves the uniform and the gold braid and all that. But I told her I gave up the army that I might devote myself to her.”
”And did that satisfy her?”