‘Oh, a man’s word on such an occasion as this!’
‘Well, I suppose a man’s word, if you know the man, is as good on one occasion as another,’ says Crosby. ‘And why should he lie to me about it? I have no interest in his tenants. If, as you seem to fancy, she is——’
‘Oh, hush!’ says Mrs. Prior, making an entreating gesture; ‘don’t speak so loud. That poor child of mine—that poor, poor child—is there’—pointing to the door on her left—‘and if she heard this, it would almost kill her, I think.’ Mrs. Prior throws a little tragedy into her pale blue eyes. ‘Her heart is deeply concerned—is filled, indeed, with Paul! As you know, George, for years this engagement has been thought of.’
‘Engagement?’
‘Between’—a little impatiently, but solemnly—‘Paul and——’ She stops as if heart-broken, and covers her face with her handkerchief.
‘Virginia,’ is on the tip of Crosby’s tongue, but by a noble effort he swallows it.
‘My unhappy Josephine,’ says Mrs. Prior, having commanded her grief. ‘For myself, I cannot see what the end of this thing will be.’
‘It’s an unlucky name beyond doubt,’ says Crosby, growing historical. ‘I don’t think I’d christen another—h’m—I mean, I don’t think it is a good name to call a girl by, don’t you know; but I fail to see where the unhappiness comes in this time.’
‘Don’t you? Do you imagine my poor child would wed a man with such disgraceful antecedents? I had thought of the marriage for next year; but now! And dear Shangarry has so set his heart on a union between my girl and Paul. Only last month he was speaking to me about it. It will be a horrible blow to the poor old man. Indeed, I shouldn’t wonder if he disinherited Paul on account of it.’
Here she looks steadily, meaningly at Crosby. It is a challenge. Crosby quite understands that he is to convey to Wyndham that he is to give up his tenant, or else Mrs. Prior will declare war upon him, and prejudice the old man, his uncle, against him.