“Well, Ina is a good girl,” assented Carroll. “Both of them are good girls. She will make you a good wife.”
“Nobody knows how sure I am of it, and nobody knows how I have looked forward to this for years,” said the other, fervently.
“I could not wish anything better for my girl,” said Carroll, gently and soberly.
“What about the matter of the—ceremony?” asked Arms, returning to the first subject.
“I think they have decided that they would prefer the wedding in the church, and a little reception at the house afterwards. Of course we are comparatively strangers in Banbridge, but there are people one can always ask to a function of the sort, and I think Ina—”
“Arthur, there is something I would like to propose.”
“What, old fellow?”
Major Arms hesitated. Carroll waited, smoking as he sauntered along. The other man held his cigar, which had gone out, in his mouth; evidently he was nervous about his proposition. Finally he blurted it out with the sharpness of a pistol-shot. “Arthur, I want to defray the expenses of the wedding,” he said.
Carroll removed his cigar. “See you damned first,” said he, coolly, but with emphasis, and then replaced it.
Major Arms turned furiously towards him, but he restrained himself. “Why?” he said, with forced calm.