“But see here,” said Mr. Opp, his anger vanishing in the face of this new complication, “you don’t know Kippy; she’s just similar to a little child, quiet and gentle-like. Never give anybody any trouble in her life. Just plays with her dolls and sings to herself all day.”
“Exactly,” said Ben; “twenty-five years old and still playing with dolls. I saw her yesterday, dressed up in all sorts of foolish toggery, talking to her hands, and laughing. Aunt Tish humors her, and her father humored her, but I’m not going to. I feel sorry for her [p33] all right, but I am not going to take her home with me.”
D. Webster nervously twisted the large seal ring which he wore on his forefinger. “Then what do you mean,” he said hesitatingly—“what do you want to do about it?”
“Why, send her to an asylum, of course. That’s where she ought to have been all these years.”
Mr. Opp, sitting upon the small of his back, with one leg wrapped casually about the leg of the chair, stared at him for a moment in consternation, then, gathering himself together, rose and for the first time since we have met him seemed completely to fill his checked ready-made suit.
“Send Kippy to a lunatic asylum!” he said in tones so indignant that they made his chin tremble. “You will do nothing whatever of the kind! Why, all she’s ever had in the world was her pa and Aunt Tish and her home; now he’s gone, you ain’t wanting to take the others away from her too, are you?”
[p34]
“Well, who is going to take care of her?” demanded Ben angrily.
“I am,” announced D. Webster, striking as fine an attitude as ever his illustrious predecessor struck; “you take the money that’s in the bank, and leave me the house and Kippy. That’ll be her share and mine. I can take care of her; I don’t ask favors of nobody. Suppose I do lose my job; I’ll get me another. There’s a dozen ways I can make a living. There ain’t a man in the State that’s got more resources than me. I got plans laid now that’ll revolutionize—”
“Yes,” said Ben, quietly, “you always could do great things.”
D. Webster’s egotism, inflated to the utmost, burst at this prick, and he suddenly collapsed. Dropping limply into the chair by the table, he held his hand over his mouth to hide his agitation.