"It would be a good marriage," said Gerald, awkwardly. "I thought you wanted it."
"Stop!" exclaimed Osborn, and rested his elbows on the table, with his shoulders bent.
He had wanted Grace to marry Thorn, but his domineering temper did not carry him as far as Gerald thought. He had hoped that by and by Grace would consent; it was ridiculous to imagine she would long refuse to see the advantages that were plain to him, but to force her to pay for her brother's fault was another thing. Although Grace was rebellious, he had some love for her. In fact, he revolted from the plan and felt he hated Thorn for the pressure he could use. He was nearly resigned to letting things go and facing the threatened disaster.
For a minute or two, he did not move and Gerald got horribly cramped as he stood opposite. The room was getting dark and Osborn's figure was indistinct, but his quietness hinted at a struggle, Gerald began to feel anxious, because he had not expected his father to hesitate. At length Osborn looked up.
"You haven't told me whose name you used."
"Askew's," said Gerald, with a tremor. He knew he could use no stronger argument, but felt afraid.
"Askew's!" shouted Osborn, straightening his bent shoulders with a savage jerk. "This is more than I can bear. Was there nobody you could rob but the man who has plotted against me since he came home from school?" He stopped and gasped as if his rage were choking him and it was some moments before he went on: "You have given the fellow power to humble us and drag our name in the mud. Can't you imagine how he'll exult? Our honor in Askew's hands! It's unthinkable!"
"If the bill isn't met, the holder will apply to Askew," Gerald said as coolly as he could.
Osborn's muscles relaxed and he sank back into his limp pose. His hand shook as he wiped his wet forehead.
"You have said enough. Leave me alone. I must try to think."