Rowan perceived at once that his mother was ranging herself on the Tappitt side in the contest, and was therefore ready to fight with so much the more vigour. He was accustomed to yield to his mother in all little things, Mrs. Rowan being a woman who liked such yieldings; but for some time past he had held his own against her in all greater matters. Now and again, for an hour or so, she would show that she was vexed; but her admiration for him was so genuine, and her love so strong, that this vexation never endured, and Luke had been taught to think that his judgment was to be held supreme in all their joint concerns. "Yes, mother, he is older than I am; but I do not know that I can say anything particularly civil to him,—that is, more civil than what I have said. The civility which he wants is the surrender of my rights. I can't be so civil as that."
"No, Luke, I should be the last to ask you to surrender any of your rights; you must be sure of that. But—oh, Luke, if what I hear is true I shall be so unhappy!"
"And what have you heard, mother?"
"I am afraid all this is not about the brewery altogether."
"But it is about the brewery altogether;—about that and about nothing else to any smallest extent. I don't at all know what you mean."
"Luke, is there no young lady in the case?"
"Young lady! in what case;—in the case of my quarrel with old Tappitt;—whether he and I have had a difference about a young lady?"
"No, Luke; you know I don't mean that."
"But what do you mean, mother?"
"I'm afraid that you know too well. Is there not a young lady whom you've met at Mrs. Tappitt's, and whom you—you pretend to admire?"