“To prevent him refusing yours?”
“It won’t be mine. It’ll be Ned Levi’s.”
“Yes, but what’s to prevent Sebastian refusing it, whoever of you it comes from?”
But Mr. Johnson seemed to think Sebastian was already “coming round.”
“I’ve noticed him different since a couple of weeks. More easy-like and anxious to please. Only he’s too proud to go galloping straight back to the Stores and say: ‘Please, sir, I was an ass, give me my partnership and fifteen hundred per annum.’ He’ll say it by degrees. And half of the whole boiling is his when Ned dies. Not but that Ned’s as young as I am, but he looks tired and worn, poor fellow; sort of wistful round the eyes when he said: ‘Johnson, it isn’t your dowry to your daughter he’ll object to; it’s only my help he won’t take; so it must reach him through a back door.’ But Sebastian Levi’s a good match for our girl, Frances, even if he’s gone temporary mad; now that I know his father’s not set against him, as I was afraid.”
Mrs. Johnson began: “I was wondering——” and relapsed into silence.
He encouraged her: “Speak up, old lady.”
“Whether we mightn’t announce the wedding officially at our Christmas dinner. Half the people don’t even know Letty’s engaged.”
“Have it your own way.”