“Daughter, I fear the marriage will never take place.”
“Why, papa? The engagement was announced last night, and the date set six weeks from then. Would you object, papa?”
“No, daughter; I would not interfere with the marriage, but—but—”
“Well, papa, what do you want to say?”
“It will all be known soon enough, and the dear girl will suffer, I know.”
“Oh, dear papa, don’t cry so hard! I am trying to be brave for you, and I want you to for me—and Amelia will be happy.”
“Well, if the man isn’t crying! It’s not enough to hear the ladies, and when the men begin I’ll have to move on, I think. I have enough knowledge for to last the rest of me life,” muttered Pat.
“Pat, you may take this letter to the train. Pat, you are wanted. I wonder if he has forgot his orders.”
“Oh, the devil take you! I’m coming, as soon as I get these tears all out of me eyes,” mumbled Pat. Then aloud: “Yes, I’m coming. What can I do for you?”
“Mail this letter on the morning train. Do not delay getting it off.