"No. It's in my office; but I can get it if you'd like to look at it."
"No; it's no matter, if you can tell me the date."
"It bears date November 19th, I think."
"Just one day after he came of age," said Maj. Pagebrook. "Well, I'll see about it, Charles," and with this the two gentlemen separated.
Major Pagebrook rode homeward, meditating upon the occurrences of the morning. He had determined to manage his own business hereafter without tolerating improper interference upon the part of his wife, and he was in position to do this, too, except with regard to the home plantation, which, as Ewing had informed Robert, was held in Cousin Sarah Ann's name. Major Pagebrook was a quiet man and a long-suffering one. He liked nothing so much as peace, and to keep the peace he had always yielded to the more aggressive nature of his wife. But he felt now that the time had come for him to assert his supremacy in business matters, and he determined to assert it very quietly but very positively. One point was as good as another, he thought, for the purpose, and this newly-discovered debt of Ewing's gave him an excellent occasion for the self-assertion upon which he had resolved. Several times of late he had mildly suggested to Cousin Sarah Ann the propriety of putting Ewing's papers into Billy Barksdale's hands for examination, so that the boy's affairs might be properly and legally adjusted. To every such suggestion Cousin Sarah Ann, who carried the key of Ewing's portable desk, had turned a deaf ear, saying that there were no debts one way or the other, and that she "wouldn't have anybody overhauling the poor boy's private papers." Now, however, Major Pagebrook had made up his mind to put the desk into Billy's hands without asking the excellent lady's consent.
"Don't take my horse, Jim," he said to his servant upon arriving at home, "I am going to ride again presently. Just tie him to the rack till I want him."
Going into the house, he met Cousin Sarah Ann, to whom he said:
"Sarah Ann, I will write my own letters and attend to my own business hereafter, and I'll thank you not to sign my name for me again. You have placed me in a very awkward position, and I can't explain it to anybody without exposing you. Understand me now, please. I will not tolerate any such interference in future."
Ordinarily Cousin Sarah Ann would have been ready enough with a reply to such a remark as this, but just now she was fairly frightened by her husband's tone and manner. She saw at a glance that he was in very serious earnest, and she knew him well enough to know that it would not do to provoke him further. She was always afraid of him, even when she was riding rough-shod over him. When he seemed most submissive and she most aggressive, she was in the habit of scanning his countenance very carefully, as an engineer watches his steam gauge. When she saw steam rising, she usually had the safety valve—a flood of tears—ready for immediate use. Just now she saw indications of an explosion, which appalled her, and she dared not face the danger for a moment. Without reply, therefore, she sank, weeping, into the nearest chair, while her husband walked into her room, opened her wardrobe, and took from it the little desk in which his son's letters and papers were locked. Coming back to her he said:
"I will take the key to this desk, if you please."