“Who?” said the latter, sharply, as he straightened his aching back.
“Young Mr. Hardy,” said Bella, impressively. “I showed 'im in; I didn't ask 'im to take a chair, but he took one.”
“Young Hardy to see me!” said the captain to his daughter, after Bella had returned to the house. “How dare he come to my house? Infernal impudence! I won't see him.”
“Shall I go in and see him for you?” inquired Kate, with affected artlessness.
“You stay where you are, miss,” said her father. “I won't have him speak to you; I won't have him look at you. I'll——”
He beat his dirty hands together and strode off towards the house. Jem Hardy rose from his chair as the captain entered the room and, ignoring a look of black inquiry, bade him “Good afternoon.”
“What do you want?” asked the captain, gruffly, as he stared him straight in the eye.
“I came to see you about your son's marriage,” said the other. “Are you still desirous of preventing it?”
“I'm sorry you've had the trouble,” said the captain, in a voice of suppressed anger; “and now may I ask you to get out of my house?”