“An idea I had.”
“An idea?”
“Yes; about—about breaking the news to my uncle.”
“News? What news?”
“Why, the news—the news of our marriage.”
“Why!” she exclaimed, with an expression of very serious surprise. “Do you mean to say that—that you haven't done that yet?”
“No; not yet. That's just the point. You see——
“Oh, Elias,” she interrupted, in a tone of emphatic rebuke, “I supposed, of course, you had told him long ago. You ought to have told him. That wasn't right.”
“What difference does it make? I have waited about it, because it would only have raised trouble between him and me, without doing a particle of good to either. There's no end to the bother and complications it would have caused. He lives in my house, you know; and if we had had a row, he would have felt obliged to clear out, and all that. So I kept my own counsel; and I'm very glad I did. For now my idea is to say nothing to him at all; but after we're safely aboard-ship, and started for the other side, I'll send him a letter by the pilot. That will spare both of us a very painful and unprofitable interview.”
“Oh, but it's not fair, it's not honorable, it's not respectful. He's your uncle—your own mother's brother—and you owe it to him not to do that—not to go and get married without even letting him know. You ought to have told him long ago. It will hurt his feelings awfully, when he finds out how long you have kept it from him—when he finds that you have waited till the very eleventh hour. Now you must tell him right straight away—as soon as you possibly can—to-night, as soon as you reach home. Promise me that you will.”