"What you say may be true, but I don't believe a word of it, till I have the proofs," replied the daughter, who seemed to delight in taking a gloomy view of her case. "Why--will you believe it?--I can't get him even to talk about engaging a house in New York. He always dodges the subject, somehow. Upon my word, I think he expects to quarter on you for the balance of his life. That would be rich!"
Mr. Whedell raised his eyebrows, and emitted a doleful whistle. Reflecting, he said:
"You may misjudge him. Perhaps he doesn't like to disturb Love's young dream, by looking into the future. That's all--I'm sure of it."
"Humbug!" ejaculated Mrs. Chiffield.
"Poor thing!" said her father, tenderly. "There--cheer up. Depend upon it, that you have got a rich husband, who will take all our troubles off our shoulders. Stay here, and I will go up stairs and sound him."
Mr. Whedell proceeded to the apartment where his son-in-law was shut up, and found that individual in a deep fit of meditation.
"Thinking--and so soon after marriage?" said Mr. Whedell, with a charming smile.
"Oh, yes; and I was thinking how much happier is a married man than a bachelor."
"You will always think so, I am sure, with my dear Clemmy as your wife. My dear Clemmy! How naturally that phrase comes to my lips. And you are about to take her away. It's a foolish thought, but I hardly know how I shall live without her." Mr. Whedell paused, for effect, and contemplated the vermicular work in the carpet.
"A happy thought strikes me," said Chiffield. "You have a house here, already furnished. Let us occupy it free of rent, and I will pay the housekeeping bills of the establishment. That will be mutually advantageous, and will especially suit your daughter, who, of course, has a child's attachment for home. What do you say to the proposition, respected father-in-law?"