“Suppose you lost the Van Bahr money, and some one offered you a tidy little sum to start with, would you take it?”
“It would depend upon who made the offer, ma’am,” said Van, looking more like a sheep than ever, as he stood staring in blank surprise.
“Suppose it was me, wouldn’t you take it?” asked Aunt Kipp, blandly, for the new fancy pleased her.
“No, thank you, ma’am,” said Van, decidedly.
“And why not, pray?” cried the old lady, with a shrillness that made him jump, and Toady back to the door precipitately.
“Because, if you’ll excuse my speaking plainly, I think you owe anything you may have to spare to your niece, Mrs. Snow;” and, having freed his mind, Van joined Toady, ready to fly if necessary.
“You’re an idiot, sir,” began Aunt Kipp, in a rage again.
“Thank you, ma’am.” And Van actually laughed and bowed in return for the compliment.
“Hold your tongue, sir,” snapped the old lady. “You’re a fool and Sophy is another. She’s no strength of mind, no sense about anything; and would make ducks and drakes of my money in less than no time if I gave it to her, as I’ve thought of doing.”
“Mrs. Kipp, you forget who you are speaking to. Mrs. Snow’s sons love and respect her if you don’t, and they won’t hear anything untrue or unkind said of a good woman, a devoted mother, and an almost friendless widow.”