"You always have your book! I never saw such a fellow for reading--but
I'm not saying anything, my boy. No, no, you're a good lad. Few sons
please their old fathers as you do me--we're not quarrelling, Allan
lad!"
"We never have yet, father, and we never will, I think!"
"I know!" said Sir Josiah. "Ah, Allan, you're doing well, a fine woman,
beautiful as a picture, tall and stately, and the daughter of an Earl.
Why, boy, you ought to be in the Seventh Heaven of delight and instead
you sit there with your nose in a book!"
"She is a fine and a beautiful and I believe a good woman," said Allan,
"but her father--" he paused. "I could have wished her a better
father!"
"An Earl, an Earl!" cried the old man. "A better father than an Earl!
Bless me, Allan--what nonsense! However, you're marrying her not her
father; it's all settled, all agreed--" He rubbed his hands, his round
red face shone with benevolence and joy. "You're a sensible and dutiful
fellow, Allan! You say to yourself, 'My old father wishes it--The girl
is good and beautiful and well born, I don't know particularly that I
love her--come to that perhaps I don't, but I might go farther and fare
worse!' Eh, that's it, isn't it? And you're doing it, boy, because you
know it will give pleasure to the old man!"
"I think you have got my reasoning very correctly, father!" Allan said.
"There's no one else?" Sir Josiah said.
"No one else, no--and I like Lady Kathleen. I admire her and I pity
her----"
"Pity--pity--bless my soul, boy, pity. Why should you pity her? Isn't
she well born, doesn't she move in the best, the very best society?
Isn't she the only daughter, only child come to that, of an Earl? Pity
her?"
"Just that, I pity her, I am deeply sorry for her. I think she suffers
a good deal and can't you understand why?"
"I--I don't know, lad, how should I know what the feelings of a young
Society lady are?"
"She is proud and she is poor, there's suffering in that--She is proud
and she knows that her father's name is in bad odour. Do you think a
sensitive, highly strung girl as she is doesn't feel a thing like that?
Yes, I pity her, and if through me her life may be made a little
happier, why not? Last night when you and her father were talking
money--she and I had much to say to one another. She was very open and
very frank to me and I to her. We made no pretence--we know that we do
not love one another. She is desperately poor and she is marrying me
chiefly--entirely for the money you are going to give us both. I know
that you are lending Lord Gowerhurst money, that he has not the
slightest intention of every repaying you--Oh, Kathleen and I have been
perfectly open and frank with one another--I understand that she cares
for no one else. She has the same assurances from me, so there--" Allan
laughed sharply, "you have it, the usual thing, a marriage of
convenience! How can I pretend that I like it, Father, when I do not?
You--you know that I would sooner not--but it is arranged, it is
agreed--I do not love her, but thank God I can and do respect her and I
feel sorry for her--and so we shall go through with it, Father!" he
concluded.
Josiah nodded. "Yes, boy, you will go through with it and one day
you'll thank me that I brought it about. I know a good woman when I see
one and I tell you she is that--good--good to the core--I'm not clever
and not over well educated, Allan, like you are. I don't set up to be a
gentleman, but there's one thing I can do, I can sum up my fellow men
and women, too, come to that. You'll find Allan, I'm making no mistake
when I say Lady Kathleen is as fine and as true a woman as ever stepped.
You'll go through with this marriage, Allan, I count on you!"
"I've never failed you yet, Father."
"You never have, never, and never will!" A look of rare tenderness came
into the commonplace, even vulgar face. He rose and went to his son and
put a large trembling hand on his shoulder.
"No Allan, you've never failed me, not even when you were a little chap!
Do you think I don't think of it? Do you think I don't thank God for
it, do you think when I hear other men speaking of their sons and of--of
the trouble some of 'em bring? Do you think I don't say to myself--'My
boy's above that kind of thing, my boy's an honest man and a
gentleman!'" He gripped the shoulder under his hand tightly.
"And now read that, read this letter----" he went on in a changed voice.
"Read it, Allan!"
Allan took the letter and read it.
"Well, father?"
"It looks like being just the kind of place I'm after!"
"There are bound to be hundreds of others--hundreds!"
"That's just what there aren't. You know how I've advertised, you know
how many places I've seen, twenty at least, and I wouldn't be found dead
in any one of 'em. No! places like I want aren't to be found every day,
and I've got an idea this might be the place. Besides that, these
agents write, it's to be bought cheaply. I'm never above making a
bargain, Allan. It's in pretty bad condition evidently and I daresay
it'll cost some money to put right, but what's that matter if I get it
off the purchase price? Now to-day I can't go and you see that this
agent writes to say it's urgent. There's an American out for it and I
don't like to be beat, Allan, and especially I don't like to be beat by
an American. They are keen buyers and clever buyers and what I say is
this--if this place is good enough for a rich American--why it might
also be good enough for me!"