“But Allison’s wishes must be considered,” said the banker, a trifle nervously. He could not bind himself to sell his darling, and yet he knew that this man would make a dangerous foe; there were certain reasons why he did not wish to excite his enmity. “At least,” he added, “I cannot force her affections—she must choose her own husband.”
“Ah! do you intend to allow her to do that? Suppose she should love and choose a poor man—a common clerk, for instance, with a mere pittance?” and the expert’s eyes gleamed maliciously.
“Humph! Ah! well—I don’t think I could quite agree to that,” coldly responded the banker. “The man who marries Allison must at least be able to match her fortune dollar for dollar.”
“I can very nearly do that now.”
“I see you can, John, and I own that you have been very clever—far more clever than I gave you credit for being. I cannot quite understand it. I am greatly surprised and—and, of course, am—ahem!—honored by your proposal——”
“Then be kind enough to give me some definite answer,” bluntly interposed Mr. Hubbard.
“Really, John, you must give me time—this has come upon me so unexpectedly, I am wholly unprepared to pledge myself to anything,” Mr. Brewster replied thoughtfully, and beginning to recover something of his habitual dignity.
“Very well, take time; but, meantime, give me a chance. By the way, I believe you have a lawn-party, or something of the kind, out at Lakeview to-day, do you not?”
Again Adam Brewster flushed, and he longed to show his companion the door and tell him never to come into his presence again; but, as previously intimated, there were reasons why he dared not offend him.
So, restraining his anger, he called a smile to his lips and blandly responded: