“Didn’t think of it, I suppose,” said George carelessly; and, his benevolent mood increasing, he conceived the idea that a little harmless rallying might serve to elevate his aunt’s drooping spirits. “I’ll tell you something, in confidence,” he said solemnly.
She looked up, startled. “What?”
“Well, it struck me that Mr. Morgan was looking pretty absent-minded, most of the time; and he certainly is dressing better than he used to. Uncle George told me he heard that the automobile factory had been doing quite well—won a race, too! I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if all the young fellow had been waiting for was to know he had an assured income before he proposed.”
“What ‘young fellow’?”
“This young fellow Morgan,” laughed George; “Honestly, Aunt Fanny, I shouldn’t be a bit surprised to have him request an interview with me any day, and declare that his intentions are honourable, and ask my permission to pay his addresses to you. What had I better tell him?”
Fanny burst into tears.
“Good heavens!” George cried. “I was only teasing. I didn’t mean—”
“Let me alone,” she said lifelessly; and, continuing to weep, rose and began to clear away the dishes.
“Please, Aunt Fanny—”
“Just let me alone.”