“I know you were,” the Major said quietly.
George looked hurt. “I beg your pardon. Of course if the idea doesn’t appeal to you—” And he rose to go.
The Major ran a tremulous hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “I—I don’t like to refuse you anything, Georgie,” he said. “I don’t know that I often have refused you whatever you wanted—in reason—”
“You’ve always been more than generous, sir,” George interrupted quickly. “And if the idea of a tandem doesn’t appeal to you, why—of course—” And he waved his hand, heroically dismissing the tandem.
The Major’s distress became obvious. “Georgie, I’d like to, but—but I’ve an idea tandems are dangerous to drive, and your mother might be anxious. She—”
“No, sir; I think not. She felt it would be rather a good thing—help to keep me out in the open air. But if perhaps your finances—”
“Oh, it isn’t that so much,” the old gentleman said hurriedly. “I wasn’t thinking of that altogether.” He laughed uncomfortably. “I guess we could still afford a new horse or two, if need be—”
“I thought you said—”
The Major waved his hand airily. “Oh, a few retrenchments where things were useless; nothing gained by a raft of idle darkies in the stable—nor by a lot of extra land that might as well be put to work for us in rentals. And if you want this thing so very much—”
“It’s not important enough to bother about, really, of course.”