“There’s so many different things I could use,” Hitty said thoughtfully, “that I don’t know which one to hold over your head first.”
“I don’t see how you could use anything you’ve got.”
“I’d just as soon use something I hadn’t got,” Hitty said grimly. “I’d sue you for breach o’ promise myself ruther than lose what I come after.”
“I don’t doubt you’re capable of it,” Collier 294 Pratt said, surveying her ruefully. “That certainly would ruin my reputation. But seriously, supposing I were to give my consent to Sheila’s going back to Miss Martin—Sheila’s fond of her, and I should be very glad to do Miss Martin a service—little as you may be inclined to believe it of me. I’m fond enough of the child, but she is a considerable embarrassment to a man situated as I am. Supposing I should consent to giving her up as you suggest, how can a woman situated as Miss Martin is situated undertake such a charge permanently? How could she afford it? What kind of a future should I be surrendering my little girl to? One has to think of those things. Miss Martin is a poor girl—”
“It’s a lucky thing that you didn’t know it before,” Hitty said deliberately. “What you don’t know that a woman’s got, you wouldn’t be trying to get away from her. Nancy’s Uncle Elijah that died last year left her a million dollars in his will.”
“The devil he did—”
“I guess if anybody’s going to talk about devils it had better be me,” Hitty said dryly. “Does the child go or stay?”
“Oh! she goes,” Collier Pratt said. “I’m sorry you didn’t come after me too, Hitty.”
“Nobody from up our way is ever coming after you. You can put that in your pipe and smoke it. Put on your bonnet, Sheila.”