“You cannot permit it? Are you, then, our uncle’s guardian?”
“No, and yes. I do not seek to control him, but I wish to save him from serious agitation. Should he see you, and find that you are still rebellious, the shock might kill him.”
“I have reason to doubt your words,” said Florence, coldly. “I think you are resolved to keep us apart.”
“Listen, and I will tell you a secret; Uncle John has heart disease, so the doctor assures me. Any unwonted agitation might kill him instantly. I am sure you would not like to expose him to such a risk.”
He spoke with apparent sincerity, but Florence did not feel certain that his words were truthful.
“Very well,” she said. “Then I will give up seeing him.”
“It is best, unless you are ready to accede to his wishes—and mine.”
She did not answer, but walked away slowly.
“It would never do to have them meet!” muttered Curtis. “The old gentleman would ask her to come back on any terms, and then all my scheming would be upset. That was a happy invention of mine, about heart disease,” he continued, with a low laugh. “Though she only half believed it, she will not dare to run the risk of giving him a shock.”
It was about this time that the quiet tenor of Dodger’s life was interrupted by a startling event.