“I did nothing but my duty,” said Rachel. “If I have exposed to you the character of these men in vain—”
“Exposed! Exposed!” cried Fuller. “What's this here maggot about exposin'? Who talks about exposin' a lad like that? The best lad i' the country-side without a 'ception!”
“You tell me then,” said Rachel, turning upon him slowly, as if Ruth's eyes had an attraction for her, and she could scarcely leave them—“you tell me then that this Reuben Gold has your approval in making approaches to your daughter?”
“Approval!” shouted Fuller. “Yis. I've seen 'em gettin' fond on each other this five 'ear, and took a pleasure in it. What's agen the lad? Nothin' but the mumblin' of a bumble-bee as an old maid's got in her bonnet. A spite agen his uncle is a thing as is understandable.”
“Indeed, sir,” said Aunt Rachel, with frigid politeness. “Will you tell me why?”
“Well, no,” said Fuller. “I'd rather I didn't. Look here. Let's have harmony. I'm no hand at quarrelin', even among the men, let alone among the petticuts. Let's have harmony. The wench has got her letter back, and theer's no harm done. And if theer is, ye'd better fight it out betwigst ye.” With this he turned his back and waddled a pace or two. Then he turned a laughing face upon them, moving slowly on his axis. “Mek it up,” he said, “mek it up. Let's have no ill blood i' the family. Nothin' like harmony.”
Having thus delivered himself he rolled in-doors, and there sat down to his morning pipe. But anger and laughter are alike provocative of thirst, and seeking a jug in the kitchen he took his way to the cellar, and there had a copious draught of small beer, after which he settled himself down in his arm-chair, prepared to make the best of anything which might befall him.
The quarrel from which he had withdrawn himself did not seem so easy to be made up as he had appeared to fancy. Ruth and Rachel stood face to face in silence. To the younger woman the offence which had been committed against her seemed intolerable, and it took this complexion less because of the nature of the act itself than because of its consequences. It had mocked Reuben, and it had made her seem as if she were the mocker.
“You are angry, child!” said Rachel, at length. “I was prepared for that. But I was not prepared for your father's acquiescence in the ruinous course upon which you have entered.”
“Ruinous course?” said Ruth.