“I don’t know,” he answered. “I never heard her express herself on the subject.”
“You see, I am alone in the world. I was married at twenty-two, but my wife died before I was twenty-five, leaving neither chick nor child. So I have remained unmarried. I have sometimes thought I should like to build a fine house in Davenport (that’s where I live) and have a stylish woman at the head of it. Now, your mother is very stylish; she would do me credit. But perhaps you would object to her marrying again?”
“I should have no right to object, General Flint.”
“I don’t know about that. As an only son you might think it was some business of yours. But I’ll say one thing, Edwin—I shouldn’t want any of her money. I should be perfectly willing that she should leave it all to you.”
“If my mother were to marry again, I would as soon have her marry you, as any one.”
“Thank you, my boy,” and the old general clasped the hand of his young companion. “I don’t know as I shall do anything about it, but if I see the way clear, I may propose.”
About a week later, to Mrs. Harcourt’s intense astonishment, General Flint made her a matrimonial offer.
“I don’t want any of your money, ma’am,” he said bluntly. “You can save it all for the boy. I’ve got a good fortune myself, and I mean to live in fine style.”
“Thank you, General Flint,” said the widow. “I own that I am surprised, for I had no idea you had thought of me in any such connection. I hope,” she added smiling, “it won’t be a very serious blow to your happiness if I say that I should rather remain a widow.”
“No, ma’am, I can’t say it will. When a man is over fifty his heart gets a little tough. Still I may say that I admire you very much and look upon you as a very stylish woman. I should like to introduce you to my friends as Mrs. General Flint.”