“There goes a friend out of this house; more fools we. You have lost her by your confounded folly. What is the use spooning all your days after another man's wife? I wouldn't have had this happen for ten thousand pounds. Dissolute Dick! he will break her heart in a twelvemouth.”
“Then why, in heaven's name, didn't you marry her yourself?”
“Me! at my age? No; why didn't YOU marry her? You know she fancies you. The moment you found Grace married, you ought to have secured this girl, and lived with me; the house is big enough for you all.”
“It is not so big as your heart, sir,” said Henry. “But pray don't speak to me of love or marriage either.”
“Why should I? The milk is spilt; it is no use crying now. Let us go and dress for dinner. Curse the world—it is one disappointment.”
Little himself was vexed, but he determined to put a good face on it, and to be very kind to his good friend Jael.
She did not appear at dinner, and when the servants had retired, he said, “Come now, let us make the best of it. Mother, if you don't mind, I will settle five thousand pounds upon her and her children. He is a spendthrift, I hear, and as poor as Job.”
Mrs. Little stared at her son. “Why, she has refused him!”
Loud exclamations of surprise and satisfaction.
“A fine fright you have given us. You said 'Yes.'”