“News? What kind of news?”
“Oh, any news about—well, about any one we know?”
“No.... See here, what do you mean? Have you heard something?”
Again she did not answer. “Foster,” she said, sewing steadily, “I don’t want you to get the idea from what I just told you about my feelin’s that I think Esther’s marryin’ Bob Griffin would be the very worst thing that could happen.... Wait! let me finish. I don’t think it would be a wise thing, considerin’ the way you and Mr. Cook hate each other and the way you both would be likely to act if those young folks took the bit in their teeth and decided to marry, anyhow. And if Esther and he can forget I should say it was best they did, best for all hands. But if they care enough for each other so that they can’t forget and will be miserable and sorry all their days, then I honestly believe they should go through with it. After all, they are young, they have got their lives to live. It is for them, and nobody else, to really decide how they shall live ’em. That is the way I feel and I guess you ought to know it.”
He rose from the rocker. He was angry, so angry that he could scarcely trust himself to speak.
“Yes,” he growled, with savage sarcasm, “you are right in that. Mighty well right! I guess it is high time I knew it. So you have been putting her up to—”
“Stop! I haven’t put her up to anything. She and I have hardly mentioned Bob Griffin’s name for a month. If she had asked me what I thought about it I should have told her what I just told you, that the less she saw of him the better. And when she told me you were sendin’ her abroad I knew why you were doin’ it and I was glad. It, or somethin’ like it, was what I hoped you would do. In fact, you just now hinted that I was the one who put doin’ it into your head. Don’t make silly speeches that you know ain’t true, Foster Townsend.”
This appeal to common sense and justice had some effect. He took a stride or two up and down the room and when he spoke his tone was a trifle less fierce although just as determined.
“You have said enough, anyhow,” he declared. “Now you hear me say this: She isn’t going to marry that cub. She isn’t. If taking her to Paris and keeping him out of her sight doesn’t cure her then I’ll try something that will. I’ll—by the Lord Almighty, if worst comes to worst I’ll—I’ll kill him before I let one of his gang take her away from me.”
She laughed a little. “Killin’ him would be a fine way to keep her with you, wouldn’t it?” she observed. “If you will only behave like a sensible man, and talk like one, I’ll tell you something else, something you will know soon but that perhaps you’d better know now.”