"And we'll do it in style I promise you," he said with ill-feigned ardour. "You shall have a good send-off, and a good honeymoon, too, before you start life in double harness."
"And after our marriage, you're going to settle Owley on me, aren't you, father?" asked Avis. "I don't ask for inquisitiveness, but only so as we shall know how we stand."
"Yes, I am. That was a promise. And I'll add this: that I shall waive the rent as soon as ever I see my way clear."
"Not from the start, however?" asked Bob.
"Not from the start—no. Circumstances have called upon me for a good deal of money lately and—however, the future's yours. Whatever else they haven't got, the young have always the future."
Avis looked uncomfortable, feeling that the present was the time to speak concerning details. She was sorry for herself and suffered a disappointment which to one of her nature did not lack for edge. She had dreamed of a very fine wedding indeed, but had been told by her grandmother that any such hope would have to be abandoned. The fact she now declared, and her regret lent unconscious tartness to her speech.
"I can't have a gay wedding, father, and no doubt you know why. You wouldn't have a gay wedding with a death in the house, and what's happened is a long way worse than that."
She repeated a speech that she had heard from her grandmother on the same subject, and Jacob stared, but did not answer.
"That's the worst of a thing like what you've done, father. It don't stop where it belongs, and my wedding's got to suffer with everything else."
Her father flushed, but he restrained himself and she stung on.