But Mr. Blumpitty was doing some more thinking. Gravely he brought out the result. “It ain’t many young ladies would want to take that journey jest to nurse their fathers.”
Mrs. Mar looked at him coldly. “She hasn’t got anything to invest in gold mines.” And then she was sorry she had admitted this. If the man thought of Miss Mar—or, say Mrs. Mar—as a probable investor, it might make a difference.
But apparently quite unchilled, Mr. Blumpitty was drawling, “Wa-al, if she comes with us, I could very likely help her to locate a claim of her own.”
Even that handsome offer seemed not to “fetch” Mrs. Mar.
And still he was not daunted. “I said to Mrs. Blumpitty, ‘That’s the kind o’ young lady I’d like to help.’”
No sort of direct acknowledgment out of the young lady’s mother. But presently, “Just at this juncture I want to give my daughter all I can spare, or I wouldn’t mind putting something into your company myself.”
You might think he heard only the end of the sentence. “It’s a good investment,” he said.
“It’s quite possible that later—” Mrs. Mar threw in, feeling herself very diplomatic. “Just at present the only funds I have in hand are what my eldest son has sent to supplement his sister’s.”
“Ya-as, I wus thinking,” said Blumpitty, as though in complete agreement, “when she buys her stuff at Baumgarten’s she’d better get it through me, and then she’ll pay only wholesale rates. That’ll be a savin’. I could save her freight charges, too.”