“I’d go to the end of the world to help you, Knox. But what can I do?”
“You don’t see? I’ll tell you then. It sounds a bit strong, but it’s safe enough and it’ll do the trick. Above all you needn’t feel a speck of fear, because your mother-in-law has a very fine affection for me, and to marry me will really be a great delight to her—that I assure you.”
“What must I do then?”
“Merely tell Medora you don’t look at her again unless Mrs. Trivett changes her name to Mrs. Knox. I’m not asking a difficult or troublesome thing. In fact, you needn’t lift a finger in the matter. You can safely leave it to Medora. She’ll praise God on her knees for a month of Sundays when she hears the grand ideas in your mind, and when you state the condition—there you are: she’ll be on to her mother like a flame of fire, and Lydia will mighty soon see her duty.”
Ned Dingle laughed.
“Lord, you’re a deep one!” he said.
“Not me. Far from it. Just ordinary common sense, and a great natural regard for Medora’s mother. Mind, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a dead cert.”
“It shall be done,” answered the younger man. “You’re a double chap, Knox, though you do claim to be so simple, and I’d rather have you for a friend than an enemy.”
“I’ll be your friend as long as I live, I promise you—and your wife also. A very good father-in-law you’ll find me.”
They went to the door together and as Knox was about to depart, there came a swift foot down the lane. It was Jordan Kellock on his homeward way.