“No, I didn’t think of that,” said Flower; “of course, she couldn’t give her consent, could she—not if she was dead, I mean.”
Captain Barber drew his chair back and looked at him. “His joy has turned his brain,” he said, with conviction.
“No, it’s my foot,” said Flower, rallying. “I’ve had no sleep with it. I’m delighted! Delighted! After all these years.”
“You owe it to me,” said his uncle, with a satisfied air. “I generally see my way clear to what I want, and generally get it, too. I’ve played Mrs. Banks and Mrs. Church agin one another without their knowing it. Both ’elpless in my hands, they was.”
“But what’s the matter with Mrs. Church?” said his depressed nephew.
“Oh, that’s the worst of it,” said Uncle Barber, shaking his head. “While I was in play, that pore woman must have thought I was in earnest. She don’t say nothing. Not a word, and the efforts she makes to control her feelings is noble.”
“Have you told her she has got to go then?” enquired Flower.
Captain Barber shook his head. “Mrs. Banks saved me that trouble,” he said, grimly.
“But she can’t take notice from Mrs. Banks,” said Flower, “it’ll have to come from you.”
“All in good time,” said Captain Barber, wiping his face. “As I’ve done all this for you, I was going to let you tell her.”