Galusha made no attempt to deny the charge of insanity. He was thinking rapidly now and his face expressed his thought.
“Do you—do you really think she might forgive me?” he asked, breathlessly.
“Think! Why, she and I had a long talk just before I came over here. She thinks you are the best and most wonderful man on earth and all she feared was that you had taken your last cent, or even borrowed the money, to come to her rescue. When I told her you were worth a quarter of a million, she felt better, but it didn't lessen her gratitude. Forgive you! Oh, good Lord!”
Galusha had heard only the first part of this speech. The ecstatic expression was returning. He drew a long breath.
“I—I wonder if she really would consider such a thing?” he murmured.
“Consider what? Marriage? Well, I should say she wouldn't take much time for consideration. She'll jump at it, I tell you. You are the one to consider, old man. You are rich, and famous. Yes, and, although I have never pinned quite as much faith to the 'family' idea as most of our people do, still we have a sort of tradition to keep up, you know. Now this—er—Miss Phipps is all right, no doubt; her people were good people, doubtless, but—well, some of our feminine second and third cousins will make remarks, Galusha. They surely will.”
Galusha did not even trouble to answer this speech. His cousin continued.
“But that is your business, of course,” he said. “And I honestly believe that in a good many ways she would make the ideal wife for you. She is not bad looking, in a wholesome sort of way, she is competent and very practical, has no end of common sense, and in all money matters she would make the sort of manager you need. She... Say, look here, have you heard one word of all I have been saying for the last three minutes ?”
“Eh?... Oh, yes, indeed. Of course, quite so.”
“I know better; you haven't.”