“You will, will you, Bob? You are extremely kind,” she answered, with twinkling eyes.
“I am,” said Vickers. “I am most extraordinarily and unnecessarily magnanimous: for, as I suppose you knew from the moment you set eyes on me, I am not your cousin.”
There was an instant in which he made ready for consequences, and then, to his surprise, she began to smile, and then to chuckle, and then to laugh in the most disconcerting way imaginable.
Vickers would not interrupt her merriment, but continued to stare at her with what dignity he could command.
“You are so delightful, Bob. You always live up to your character. I have been wondering all night how you would get out of this, and I decided on ill-health. Heart-disease, I rather thought. It seemed an excellent opportunity for heart-disease. You could easily arrange doctor’s bills that would run far beyond anything you could make. But I did you injustice, grave injustice; this is infinitely better. You are not you, but some one else. And were you changed at birth? or in South America?”
Disregarding her merriment, he went on:
“Nevertheless I am willing to stay here, and give my time and attention to your uncle’s affairs if they need it, and to contribute my share to the household expenses. There is no reason in the world why I should do this, except for the fact that I rather like you. I’m sure I don’t know why: for a more disagreeable, sharp-tongued young woman I never met. Still, the fact remains: I do like you. But I make one condition—not a very hard one—namely that you shall be decently civil to me. Do you understand?”
“I understand perfectly,” she answered. “We are to accept your doing your duty as the most extraordinary personal favor. Is that it, Bob?”
“An unkind critic might say you were willing to shift your burdens to the shoulders of the first stranger that came along, whether he were your cousin or not.”
“The critic would to a certain extent be right. I do not particularly care who looks out for my uncle, provided it is well done. But you must not be too hard on me, Bob,” she smiled. “You will not have the burden of my support: for I expect to be married in August.”