"If you please, Mr. Rockharrt."
"And so that is the reason why you worked so hard to get my railroad bill through the legislature. Well, I always believed that every man had his price; but I thought you were the exception to the general rule. I thought you were not for sale. But it seems that I was mistaken, and that you were for sale, and set a pretty high price upon yourself, too—the hand of my granddaughter!"
The young man was not ill-tempered or irritable. Perfectly conscious of his own sound integrity, he was unmoved by this taunt; and he answered with quiet dignity:
"If you will reflect for a moment, Mr. Rockharrt, you will know that your charge is untrue and impossible, and you will recall it. I took up your railroad bill because I saw that its provisions would be beneficial to the small towns, tradesmen and farmers all along the proposed line—interests that many railroads neglect, to the ruin of parties most concerned. And I took up this cause before I had ever met your granddaughter since her childhood or as a woman."
"That is true. Well, well, the selfish and mercenary character of the men, and women, too, that I meet in this world has made me, perhaps, too suspicious of all men's motives," said the champion egotist of the world, speaking with the air of the great king condescending to an apology—if his answer could be called an apology.
Rule accepted it as such. He knew it was as near to a concession as the despot could come. He bowed in silence.
"And so you want my granddaughter, do you?" demanded the old man.
"Yes, sir; as the greatest good that you, or the world, or heaven, could bestow on me," earnestly replied the suitor.
"Rubbish! Don't talk like an idiot! How do you propose to support her?"
"By the labor of my brain and hands," gravely and confidently replied Rule.