“Anybody who can't be 'appy with her,” he said, half an hour later, as his daughter slapped his head by way of bidding him good-night, and retired, “don't deserve to be 'appy.”
“I wish it was over,” whispered his wife. “She'll break her heart if anything happens, and—and Gussie will be out now in a day or two.”
“A gal can't 'elp what her uncle does,” said Mr. Spriggs, fiercely; “if Alfred throws her over for that, he's no man.”
“Pride is his great fault,” said his wife, mournfully. .
“It's no good taking up troubles afore they come,” observed Mr. Spriggs. “P'r'aps Gussie won't come ere.
“He'll come straight here,” said his wife, with conviction; “he'll come straight here and try and make a fuss of me, same as he used to do when we was children and I'd got a ha'penny. I know him.”
“Cheer up, old gal,” said Mr. Spriggs; “if he does, we must try and get rid of 'im; and, if he won't go, we must tell Alfred that he's been to Australia, same as we did Ethel.”
His wife smiled faintly.
“That's the ticket,” continued Mr. Spriggs. “For one thing, I b'leeve he'll be ashamed to show his face here; but, if he does, he's come back from Australia. See? It'll make it nicer for 'im too. You don't suppose he wants to boast of where he's been?”
“And suppose he comes while Alfred is here?” said his wife.