III
He let several suns go down on a certain stiffness which he felt toward his young adviser. But that it was no more than a stiffness was proven by his eventual reappearance. The Younger in the meantime was more or less in the dark as to the progress of events. He knew that there was no break as yet; but his previous acquaintance with Susannah and The General had not been such as to entitle him to their confidences. He was accordingly much pleased when the Elder came back.
“This time I am ready for you,” observed that worthy. “And I might add that she is ready for me.”
The Younger’s intentions had been of the best; but if you make a pass at a fencer his wrist will spring instinctively into play.
“Which one?” he inquired, with a smile.
“Do you ask?” retorted the Elder.
“I stand corrected. Of course, you will have to take them both. Have they given their word?”
“Ah—do you mean that the old one will be hard to shake off?” put the Elder, with something less of assurance.
“Not at all. I mean that neither of them can be shaken off. It is a particularity of the case. It is like the Siamese twins. Whoever takes one, takes both. It is the one case of plural marriage tolerated in my country.”
“In that case,” rejoined the Elder unperturbed, “there will be no trouble about the settlements.”