The old woman showed no acerbity.
“Have the goodness, Mr. Lascelles,” said she, “to examine the matter in a rational light, from the point of view of a man of the world.”
A short period was conceded to Jim Lascelles for the purpose of doing so.
“I suppose, Lady Crewkerne,” said Jim, at the termination of the period, “you wish me to give her up?”
“I do,” said the old woman.
Jim pondered a little. It was not very easy to give up the Goose Girl. But this uncompromising old heathen in her great head-dress, and installed in her state chair of embossed Spanish leather, had shown him his duty. And she had used the fewest possible words in contriving it.
“Your duty is perfectly obvious to my mind, Mr. Lascelles,” said she, after a full minute of silence had passed.
“Ye-es,” said Jim, drawing in his breath; “doubtless that is so.”
Jim Lascelles took another minute to see if there was any way possible of circumventing his obvious duty. And then he rose from his chair.
“Lady Crewkerne,” said he, “to-morrow my mother and I will leave the neighborhood. We thank you very much for the hospitality you have shown us.”