"My dear little girl, you know I am not a tyrant," said Mr. Hadwell, miserable at the thought of being so misunderstood, yet, at the same time, secretly delighted at the reference to his "courtly politeness." His delight was natural when one considers the fact that, at no time of his life, had his manners surpassed those of an average groom.
"No—perhaps not," said Mrs. Hadwell, softly. "Yet, Henry, there are times when—when—"
"When what, darling?" inquired Mr. Hadwell, abjectly.
"When," said Mrs. Hadwell with sorrowful dignity, "when, Henry, I am actually afraid to ask you for the little extra money which will provide for the entertainment of your brother's children."
"Must they be so much entertained?" asked Mr. Hadwell, humbly yet uneasily. He was a kind old man, but the prospect of parting with a dollar never failed to cause him acute agony.
"They need not be entertained," responded Mrs. Hadwell with feeling. "Those unfortunate children may come here and stay with us three weeks and return to Ohio to tell their father and mother that the woman who has deprived them of their uncle's fortune, grudges them a ball or a"— She wept: and Mr. Hadwell writhed in agony. There were only two things in life that he really loved: his big income and his small wife. Of the two, he really preferred his wife: and after a few moments' silent struggle, he succumbed to her tears and her fascinations and drew out his cheque book.
"How much?" he inquired, hardily.
Little Mrs. Hadwell dried her eyes.
"How much?" she inquired, innocently. "How mu—oh, Henry! were you thinking of giving me some money?"
Mr. Hadwell regarded her with perplexity.