As though he meant to carry that suggestion into effect literally, Mr. Daniel Meggison pushed the old smoking-cap a little further on to one side of his head, and leaned nearer to his companion, and assumed a very wise expression. Gilbert, with a glance at the house, began to speak in a cautious tone.
"It has to be understood, of course, in the first place, that whatever is done is done for the girl only. Do you understand?"
Mr. Meggison stared at him almost with indignation; he opened his eyes very wide. "Of course—of course—Bessie only. You leave that to me; I'll see to that."
"I'll see to that also," retorted Gilbert. "In the second place, whatever is done is done by you."
"By me?" The man stared at him with growing uneasiness. "But I can't——"
"I mean that whatever is done for the girl must be done for her by her father—so far as she knows. She is the last in the world to accept anything from me, and I would not ask her to do so; it would be an insult. I ask you to do so"—(Mr. Meggison pocketed that insult cheerfully, and said nothing)—"because through you I can do what I could not do for myself. For example, if we are to help this poor daughter of yours, money will be required."
"Yes—of course—money," replied Mr. Meggison, rubbing his hands, and nodding his head many times. "Oh, yes—of course money."
"And that must come through her father, as the only proper person who can give it to her. Again, in other words, Meggison, it becomes necessary, in order that this whim of mine may be carried out, that you and I should have a little secret understanding with each other. Whatever is necessary to be paid, I shall pay you, and you in turn will pay——"
"Somebody else," broke in Meggison, nodding again, and laying a forefinger against the side of his nose. "Splendid notion—and very easy—eh?" He coughed, and hesitated for a moment. "Should I, for instance—begin to-night?"
"I think not," said Gilbert quietly.