Part 47 (1/2)
”Yes. You know we were going to adopt her if we liked her enough. And we do like her enough, don't we?”
”I have no paternal feeling for Barbara,” said Mr. Waddington. ”The parental relation does not appeal to me as desirable or suitable.”
”I should have thought, considering her age and your age, it was very suitable indeed.”
”Not if it entails obligations that I might regret.”
”You're going to provide for her, aren't you? That isn't an obligation, surely, you'll regret?”
”I can provide for her without adopting her.”
”How? It's no good just leaving her something in your will.”
”I shall continue half her salary,” said Mr. Waddington, ”as an allowance.”
”Yes. But will you give her a marriage portion if she marries?”
He was silent. His mind reeled with the blow.
”If she marries,” he said, ”with my consent and my approval--yes.”
”If that isn't a parental att.i.tude! And supposing she doesn't?”
”She isn't thinking of marrying.”
”You don't know what she's thinking of.”
”Neither, I venture to say, do you.”
”Well--I don't see how I can adopt her, if you don't.”
”I didn't say I wouldn't adopt her.”
”Then you will?”
He snapped back at her with an incredible ferocity.
”I suppose I shall have to. Don't _worry_ me!”
He then lifted up the pyjamas from the bed and carried them into his dressing-room. Through the open door she saw him, mounted on a chair, laying them out, tenderly, on the top shelf of the wardrobe: as if he were storing them for some mysterious and romantic purpose in which f.a.n.n.y was not included.
”Perhaps, after all,” she thought, ”he only bought them because they make him feel young.”
All the morning, that morning of Barbara's birthday and adoption Mr.
Waddington's thoughtful gloom continued. And in the afternoon he shut himself up in his library and gave orders that he was not to be disturbed.
3
Barbara was in the morning-room.