“Me!” said Flower, with emphasis.
“Certainly,” said Captain Barber, with more emphasis still. “Just get her to yourself on the quiet and allude to it casual. Then after that bring the subject up when I’m in the room. As it’s to make room for you and your wife, you might fix the date for ’er to go. That’ll be the best way to do it.”
“It seems to me it is rather hard on her,” said his nephew, compassionately; “perhaps we had better wait a little longer.”
“Certainly not,” said Captain Barber, sharply; “don’t I tell you your banns are up. You’re to be asked in church first time next Sunday. You’ll both live with me as agreed, and I’m going to make over three o’ the cottages to you and a half-share in the ship. The rest you’ll have to wait for. Why don’t you look cheerful? You ought to.”
“I’m cheerful enough,” said Flower, recovering himself. “I’m thinking of you.”
“Me?” said his uncle.
“You and Mrs. Church,” said his nephew. “So far as I can see, you’ve committed yourself.”
“I can manage,” said Uncle Barber. “I’ve always been master in my own house. Now you’d better step round and see the bride that is to be.”
“Well, you be careful,” said his nephew, warningly.
“I’m coming, too,” said Captain Barber, with some haste; “there’s no need to stay and wait for trouble. When you go into the house, come back as though you’d forgotten something, and sing out to me that you want me to come too—hard enough for ’er to hear, mind.”