“It wasn’t on account of the risk—”
“No—of course it wasn’t. But you’re quite right now. That thing may turn up any day. I shall go to papa this very evening and tell him that we’re married. It’s the only sensible thing to do.”
“Indeed, you shan’t do that!” cried Ralston, anxiously. “You know him—”
“Shan’t?” repeated Katharine, looking up into his face and smiling. “I will if I please,” she said with a little laugh.
“Will you?” asked John, meeting her eyes with an expression of determination, but smiling, too, in spite of himself.
“Of course!” answered Katharine, promptly. “Especially as I think it’s a matter of duty. Of course I’ll do it—this very evening!”
“Don’t!” said Ralston. “There’ll be a row.”
“Not half such a row as if you try to do it,” observed Katharine. “You’ll have each other by the throat in five minutes.”
“Oh, no, we shan’t. We’re very good friends now. I don’t see why there should be any trouble at all. He wants us to marry. He said so in his letter, and he’s taken a sort of paternal air of late, when I come to the house. Besides, haven’t you noticed the way in which he turns his back on us when we sit down to talk? If that doesn’t mean consent—well, he won’t have the trouble of a wedding, that’s all, nor the expense, either. He ought to be glad, if he’s logical.”
“I don’t think he’d mind the expense so much now,” said Katharine, with perfect gravity. “I think he’s getting used to the idea of spending a little more, now that we’re to be so rich. He was talking about having a butler, last night. Fancy! But I do wish those administrators, or whatever you call them, would hurry up and give us something. We’re awfully hard up, my mother and I. We’ve had to get such a lot of clothes, and I’m frightened to death about it. I’m sure the bills will come in before the estate’s settled, and then papa will take the roof off, as you always say—he’ll be so angry! But I don’t think he’ll make such a fuss about our marriage.”