“You see, no man has the power to direct another’s feelings in the matter,” I explained.
Then he made a most extraordinary remark.
“Well, it’s no good beating about the bush, Tarver, so I’ll be frank. My sister wants to marry you; I want you to marry her and make her a home——”
“And let you be free of her?” I interrupted hotly.
He felt the thrust and winced, but proceeded:
“I wish you to marry her. What is more, I insist upon it. You shall marry her.”
I lack pluck as a rule, but a worm will turn at times. I said I would be eternally lost if I did.
“Bad language won’t help you,” he continued quietly. “Listen and judge for yourself if I threaten without power. You will recollect that I did not leave Thibet until I came of age. For one-and-twenty years I studied the wisdom of the land. Briefly, a Mahatma, whose pretensions and learning it would be idle to question, took a fancy to me, and imparted not a little of his knowledge on absurdly easy terms. I never counted to employ it. Self-control, indeed, was the first great lesson he taught me. But all information is useful. I wish you to marry my sister. Will you or will you not?”
I thought he was merely trying to frighten me, so dared him to do his worst. I purposely expressed myself with some severity.
“Don’t think I fear your tomfoolery,” I said. “If you’re a Mahatma, you ought to be locked up with all the other wild beasts. That for you! You won’t alarm me, I promise you!”