“No. And I haven’t asked the King of Belgium to come over here and take a job driving my Stutz, either. There are some things that simply aren’t done.”
“But what has she against you, especially? Doesn’t the girl realize she’s a Nobody? Doesn’t she see how she could improve her social position by marrying my son—a Ruggles?”
“She doesn’t give a hoot for anybody’s social position. Not even her own. She’s class, Pop, with a capital C. If you could see her as she’s grown up now, you’d understand and close the door softly as you go out. I’ve got as much chance of making a hit with her as the Czar of Russia stands of being elected recording secretary of the Forest Park Home Improvement and Loan Society.”
“Do I understand you to say, sir, you want this girl—that you’d marry her, and settle down if she’d have you?”
“Will a duck swim?”
“We are not discussing ducks, sir. We are discussing women! This is most interesting and enlightening. We will look into this matter. Yes, we certainly will look into the matter. At once!”
Which Amos Ruggles at once set about. As John Alden for his boy, he was one of the most efficient steam fitters who ever tackled a job and had to go back for his tools while a boiler exploded.
III
Having nothing of larger consequence to attend upon, that week, Amos took a mighty trip to Boston to interview the “brat from the Orphanage” on behalf of his beloved offspring.
Madelaine, strange as the statement may appear, had never met Amos Ruggles. Rising hastily now from her book-littered desk, she beheld her maid admit to her outer sitting room a very carefully groomed, white-faced, fastidiously caned and perfectly spatted elderly man who wore a red carnation in his buttonhole and a Facial Expression prepared for the worst.