“Ah, yes! You allude to Hattie Butler. She is rather pretty, and certainly quite gifted as a linguist.”
“What will you take to send her away where he will never see her again?”
“Mr. Legare! I hardly understand you.”
“I think I spoke quite plainly. I asked you what you would take to send her away where he would never see her again. Do you understand that?”
“I think I do,” said Mr. W——, flushing up. “But you must understand I never discharge a good and willing hand without a fault, when there is work to do for that hand. This young woman has worked for us over two years without committing an error.”
“Is it no error to snare an old man like my father, because he happens to be rich, with a display of her beauty and learning?”
“Snare! Mr. Legare, have you been drinking, or what is the matter with you?”
“I have not been drinking, Mr. W——, and I am in very sober earnest in what I say. My father, though old, is very impressible, and perhaps you know it. He came home to lunch yesterday, and could talk of nothing but the beauty and talent of this girl.”
“Why, he was not in here over ten or fifteen minutes altogether, and his conversation with her may have occupied three or four minutes of that time.”
“Well, it was long enough to do us—my sister and myself—perhaps an irreparable injury. In short, from the old gentleman’s enthusiasm, we feared he would court and marry this girl before we could take a step to prevent it, and we made up our minds to prevent such a folly if we could.”