THE next morning Mr. Forbes had an interview with Augusta.
“I don’t choose to discuss this matter of your engagement with your
mother,” he said, “so we will come to an understanding at once, if you
please. Are you determined to marry this man, to take your mother’s
property in case I continue to refuse my consent?”
“Papa! What else can I do? The invitations are out. We should be the
laughingstock of two continents. Besides, I am convinced that Bertie is
the one man I shall ever want to marry, and I cannot give him up.”
“Very well. You and your mother have beaten me. Fortunately, you are
better able to stand the consequences of your acts than most women. I
doubt if you will ever realize them. I have an attorney here. He will
confer with the Duke’s attorneys to-morrow. Only, be good enough to
arrange matters so that I shall see as little as possible of your Duke
between now and the wedding. Your mother and I shall return to America
the day after the ceremony.”
As Mr. Forbes left the room Augusta thoughtfully arranged the chiffon
on the front of her blouse.
“Even a big man,” she reflected, “a great big man, a man who can make
Presidents of the United States, has no chance in the hands of two
determined women. We are quite dangerous when we know our power.”
She added after a moment:
“How gracefully he gave in. Dear papa! But that is the American of it.
We never sulk. We lose our temper. We come down with both feet. We
even kick hard and long when we want or don’t want a thing badly. But
when we find that it’s all no use, I flatter myself that we know how to
climb down.”