“Not in years, if you mean Craig,” put in Maynard. “He is considered—and he considers himself—in the prime of life.”
Durham laughed—a little cross, crackling laugh.
“‘A violet in the youth of primy nature,’ I suppose!” he said. “Now, look here, Maynard! Putting all nonsense aside, do you really mean to make a miserable martyr of your daughter—your only child—by marrying her to Professor Craig?”
A little smile, half pathetic, half humorous lifted the wrinkles round the old Doctor’s eyes.
“You’d rather marry her yourself, wouldn’t you?” he said gently. “Just—for Jack’s sake!”
Impulsively Durham’s hand fell on that of Maynard—and they gripped together in a clasp more eloquent than words. Then Durham spoke in a voice which he tried to keep steady, but which now and then trembled in spite of himself.
“For Jack’s sake,” he said, “I would do a great deal! I thought it all out last night. I was always a bit hard on the boy—drove him with a bearing rein—but he never complained. I’m sorry now! I know he just worshipped your girl—and if I could save her from that old Dry-as-Dust, I’d marry her and keep her sacred like an angel in a shrine till—till Jack comes home! A sort of marriage by proxy, you know! And then—when he returns, I could easily make myself scarce—get out of the way quietly—no publicity—no fuss—just a little dose—and a long go-to-bye-bye—”
“My dear old fellow!” exclaimed Maynard, deeply moved. “Don’t talk that way! You’ve been worrying yourself, and you’re unnerved! I tell you what!—I think we are two old fools together,—in this matter we are forgetting the girl herself—Sylvia. We are disposing of her as if she had no will of her own! But I give you my word she’s not disposed of so easily! Let things take their course! She’s no more likely to marry Craig than you! Not a bit of it! God bless my soul! I don’t think I’m altogether finished yet—and I, too, have a will of my own!—”
“Have you?” interposed Durham, with a touch of cynicism, yet smiling a little. “And—if you have, do you exert it?”
“Well, well! Perhaps not, perhaps not! Perhaps I’m rather bound hand and foot by the gout—but I’m quite capable of making an effort should necessity arise. Just now, believe me, there’s no necessity. If Craig were to propose to my girl she’d refuse him point-blank. I shouldn’t mind his trying his luck....”