“I tell ye, girl, that my mind is made up! Both these men want ye, and only one can have ye, but before ye choose it’ll be so arranged that ye’ll have all that both have got! Don’t argy, child! Go up the hillside, and when ye come back I’ll have it fixed—I see a way quite easy!” So Sarah went up the hillside through the narrow paths between the golden furze, and Mrs. Trefusis joined the two men in the living-room of the little house.
She opened the attack with the desperate courage which is in all mothers when they think for their children, howsoever mean the thoughts may be.
“Ye two men, ye’re both in love with my Sarah!”
Their bashful silence gave consent to the barefaced proposition. She went on.
“Neither of ye has much!” Again they tacitly acquiesced in the soft impeachment.
“I don’t know that either of ye could keep a wife!” Though neither said a word their looks and bearing expressed distinct dissent. Mrs. Trefusis went on:
“But if ye’d put what ye both have together ye’d make a comfortable home for one of ye—and Sarah!” She eyed the men keenly, with her cunning eyes half shut, as she spoke; then satisfied from her scrutiny that the idea was accepted she went on quickly, as if to prevent argument:
“The girl likes ye both, and mayhap it’s hard for her to choose. Why don’t ye toss up for her? First put your money together—ye’ve each got a bit put by, I know. Let the lucky man take the lot and trade with it a bit, and then come home and marry her. Neither of ye’s afraid, I suppose! And neither of ye’ll say that he won’t do that much for the girl that ye both say ye love!”
Abel broke the silence:
“It don’t seem the square thing to toss for the girl! She wouldn’t like it herself, and it doesn’t seem—seem respectful like to her—” Eric interrupted. He was conscious that his chance was not so good as Abel’s in case Sarah should wish to choose between them: