“No, I wasn’t expected,” replied Mr. Addis. “I hope you’ll excuse me for taking you by surprise.”
Flora was holding to a chair as if for support. She did not sit down.
“There’s no harm done,” said Mrs. Baron. “I dare say there won’t be.” She seated herself with great firmness of purpose and looked from Mr. Addis to Flora, and then back to Mr. Addis without winking.
This aloof form of bullying had a happy effect upon Mr. Addis. He became ominously calm.
“No, no harm at all,” he said. “On the contrary. I think a little plain talk may be the best thing for all of us. Maybe I haven’t come to the point as I should have done, up to now. I think I’ve been a little timid, you know. But here’s the fact. I think Miss Flora here is the finest girl I’ve ever met. I’ve got great respect for you, too, Mrs. Baron. And for your family. But—the plain truth is, I want Miss Flora. I don’t say she’s mine for the asking. But I want the right and the chance to consult her about it. If she tells me she’s quite sure I won’t do, that’ll settle it. But you seem to have made up your mind beforehand that Flora shall not have a mind of her own. One of the reasons why I think so highly of her is that she is a good daughter. That isn’t such a common thing nowadays, Mrs. Baron. She’s nice and high-minded. She wouldn’t stoop to any tricks. She’s a young lady who tells the truth. And that, if you will excuse me, is something I like to do myself. What I want to point out is that I don’t believe you’ve thought what it means for you to take advantage of her obedience and respect. You don’t want her to pay a penalty for being a good girl. Give her a chance. Give me a chance. I don’t mind your proving to her that I wouldn’t make her a good husband—if you can. But you can trust to her sense and to her honor. Be frank with her. Don’t treat her as if she were a child. You know, ma’am, it’s her affair more than it is yours, after all. Give her and me a chance to talk it over.”
Flora’s color came and went during this patient, rather labored recital. The utterly prosaic course events were taking, as a result of her mother’s prejudice, impressed her strangely. She could have laughed—but also she could have wept.
Mrs. Baron had refused to meet Mr. Addis’s eyes while he spoke, but now she compelled herself to regard him. Her eyebrows were at a most formidable elevation. “I have tried to impress you with the fact, Mr. Addis,” she said, “that I do not consider you a suitable person to—to become associated in any way with my family.”
Mr. Addis flushed. “The loss would be mine, ma’am, if I were not permitted to be friendly toward all the members of your family, but, if you will pardon me, I can very easily console myself for the loss, if I have Miss Flora.” These words Mr. Addis spoke with unmistakable emphasis.
“Would you mind,” said Mrs. Baron, speaking very evenly, “would you mind not speaking quite so loudly?”
She succeeded in conveying the idea that he had violated all the laws of good taste, and that she had borne with him like a martyr.