“Why are you so keen about this?” asked Mr. Price, frowning to himself. “You’re not after the wife, are you, eh?”
“No, my dear dirty old man, I’m not, and you mustn’t say that kind ’f thing now; ’t’s not done.”
“I don’t see why not,” his father remarked. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I remember a time when a lot of jobs were handled that way, but people are mealy-mouthed now. Well, write and say we’ll try him, if you like.”
“I’ve his letter ’f acceptance here, as a matt’r of fact,” said Joseph. “Subject, of course, t’ your approval. I sounded him more ’r less befur he went away, but it didn’t appeal t’ him then. However, Egypt’s kait ’mpossible they tell me, f’r a young family; flies get int’ the milk, ’n’ so on. I’ll fix it up with him for you, ’f you like. By th’ bye, when exactly d’ we clear out ’f here?”
“In June,” replied his father. “It’s a great disappointment to me, the whole thing. I had thought of settling down here and leaving you with a decent place to call your own. However, there are plenty more in the market. I shouldn’t be surprised if Brackenbury didn’t come up for sale some time, and of course this doesn’t hold a candle to it.”
“If you’re thinking of me, I’d leave it,” said Joseph. “You know, the thing’s hardly done ’t all now. You won’t find any decent f’llers left in houses like this in a year or two, I b’lieve. Nobody’s got ’ny money, except a few people like you, and you might b’ left stranded here with practic’lly no one to talk to. Personally, I should say th’ thing to do is to live ’s quietly and comf’rtably as possible, and say we’ve lost th’ money. You’d find yourself in a far better set t’-morrow.”
“Tut! nonsense!” said his father.
“’T’s true, I ’ssure you. I’ve been sairysly c’nsidering putting in a couple ’f hours a day at the ’lectric light plant at Brackenbury. Th’ Duke’s fairf’lly keen on getting his daughters off, and they won’t look ’t anybody ’nless he’s a mechanic ’r dustman or that kind ’f thing. Two ’f them are starting ’n old-fashioned inn and calling it ‘Th’ Star ’nd Garter.’ They want t’ have th’ old f’ller’s trophies framed t’ stick up outside. ’T’s an awf’lly jolly little idea ’f you come t’ think of it.”
We will here leave Mr. Price to his reflections.