“Oh, the two old cats!” he said, tinkling more than ever. “That’s what they made of it, is it? I said you might have your fun, my dear. You are free to have your fun as much as ever you like. That’s what I said, and that’s what I shall say as long as you’re amusing yourself, Stella. You can have your fling; I shan’t stop you. Enjoy yourself as long as you can, if that’s what you like,” he said.
“Oh, papa, what do you mean—what do you mean?” cried Stella. “Don’t you mean, dear papa,” she continued, with renewed caresses, putting her arms round his neck, pressing his bald head upon her breast, “that you’ll let Charlie come—that he needn’t go to India, that we are to be married, and that you’ll give us your blessing, and—and everything? That is what you mean, isn’t it, dear papa?”
“Don’t strangle me, child,” he said, coughing and laughing. “There’s such a thing, don’t you know? as to be killed with kindness. I’ve told you what I’ll do, my dear,” he continued. “I shall let you have your fun as long as ever you like. You can dance with him down to the very ship’s side, if you please. That won’t do any harm to me, but he don’t set a foot in this house unless he’s ready to table pound for pound with me. Where’s his shillin’s, by the way, Katie? He ought to have had his shillin’s; he might have wanted them, poor man. Ah, don’t strangle me, I tell you, Stella!”
“I wish I could!” cried Stella, setting her little teeth. “You deserve it, you old dreadful, dreadful——”
“What is she saying, Kate? Never mind; it was swearing or something, I suppose—all the fault of those old cats, not mine. I said she should have her swing, and she can have her swing and welcome. That’s what she wants, I suppose. You have always had your fun, Stella. You don’t know what a thing it is to have your fun and nobody to oppose you. I never had that in my life. I was always pulled up sharp. Get along now, I want my nap before dinner; but mind, I have said all I’m going to say. You can have your fun, and he can table down pound for pound with me, if he has the money—otherwise, not another word. I may be a funny man,” said Mr. Tredgold, “but when I put my foot down, none of you will get it up again, that’s all I have got to say.”
“You are a very hard, cruel, tyrannical father,” said Stella, “and you never will have any love from anyone as long as you live!”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, with a grimace, preparing to fling his handkerchief over his head, which was his way when he went to sleep.
“Oh, papa!—oh, dear papa! Of course I did not mean that. I want no fling and no fun, but to settle down with Charlie, and to be always ready when you want me as long as I live.”
“You shall settle down with some man as I approve of, as can count down his hundreds and his thousands on the table, Stella. That’s what you are going to do.”
“Papa, you never would be so cruel to me, your little Stella? I will have no man if I have not Charlie—never, never, if he had all the money in the world.”