He looked at me keenly for a moment. “So the boss was wrong? It’s only friendship, not love?”
“Just what she has given to me,” I answered.
“Very well. Then if you want to please the boss—and me—let that friendship grow into something better. But don’t misunderstand me. You must win Agnes, if she is won. We do nothing.”
“Mr. Blodgett, should you be willing to let me try to win Miss Agnes, if I tell you that I do not love her as a man should love the woman he seeks for his wife?”
“Marriage is a funny business,” he responded. “Now there’s the boss. When I married her I thought she was so and so; little by little I found she wasn’t; but by the time I had found it out I wouldn’t have swapped her for ten of the women I had thought she was. Some men have no business to marry unless they’re pretty strongly attached, for they don’t run steady; but you’re a fellow that would keep in the traces no matter what happened, and before long you’d find yourself mighty fond of Agnes. A sense of duty is about as good a basis to marry on, if there’s natural sympathy and liking, as all this ideal make-believe. I don’t think you dislike Agnes, do you?”
“Indeed, no!” I exclaimed. “Nobody could. She is too charming and sweet for any one to do that. Miss Agnes deserves far more than I can bring her. What have I to give in return for all this?”
“You can settle that with Agnes,” he laughed; and then, as if to lessen my poverty in my own eyes, he kindly added, “In the first place, I’ll get a son-in-law chock-full of heart and grit and brains; and I’ve had pretty good evidence that he isn’t fortune-hunting, which is Agnes’s great danger. But that isn’t all, and I want you to know I’m not a fool. I’m a big fellow down in Wall Street, and even on the Royal Exchange, but do you think I don’t know my position? They kept me up over two years at the Philomathean, and you four months. After you’ve worked ten years over books with your own name on them, you’ll be received and kotowed to by people who wouldn’t crook a finger to know me. You won’t be famous as I am, for the number of naughts I can write after a figure, but your name will be known everywhere, and will be familiar long after mine has been forgotten. Who were the bankers and rich men fifty years ago? There isn’t one person in a thousand can tell you. But who hasn’t heard of Thackeray and Hawthorne, Macaulay and Motley? My girl will have more money than she’ll need; so if she gets a good husband, and one with reputation, she can’t do better. Don’t you see I’m doing my level best for Agnes, and making a regular Jew bargain?”
“Perhaps Miss Agnes will not agree.”
“We’ve got to take that chance; but she likes you, and good women think a heap more of brains than they do of money. If you’ll let me tell her your story, it won’t be long before she’ll take notice. I shouldn’t have had to ask the boss twice if I’d had any such trump card as you’ve got, and she was a sight less tender-hearted than Agnes!”
“Mr. Blodgett,” I said, “I can’t tell you the gratitude I feel, but I must be frank.”