Maurice had carried out his project of “petting” his father-in-law, but in spite of his butterfly manner of gaiety Mr. Merrick’s mood showed little relaxation; his wounds were deep; they rankled; and now he received the news of guardianship, which Maurice imparted with an air of generous self-sacrifice, gravely.
“It’s our first separation,” Maurice added. “You will have her all to yourself. My loss will be your gain.”
His smile left Mr. Merrick’s gravity unchanged. The opportunity seemed to have come for the discharge of a painful duty.
“That I am to have Felicia all to myself, I question,” he said, looking ahead at the swift lights of the moving town; for he did not care to meet his son-in-law’s eyes while he seized the opportunity.
“Well,”—Maurice good-humouredly yielded to his funny exactitude—“not altogether; her friends will relieve guard now and then.”
It was wiser to reach his purpose by slow approaches; Mr. Merrick evenly remarked, “My guard shall be unbroken,” adding, “It will be doubly necessary.”
He was rewarded by a light note of wonder in Maurice’s voice. “You seem to take it very seriously, my dear father.”
“I take it seriously, Maurice.”
Even from Mr. Merrick’s complacency such magnified significance was perplexing; Maurice turned an inquiring gaze upon him.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.