"You beg _her_ pardon, you mean."
Eldred was silent. He had been hit hard, that time. Then he spoke.
"Are you certain sure of your feelin's, sir?"
"I'm certain of nothing in this world except my feelings."
"Because" (Eldred was slow but steady and indomitable in coming to his
point), "because we don't want 'er 'eart broke."
"_You_'re breaking it, you fool, every minute you stand there. Give me
her address."
In the end he gave it.
Down-stairs, in the kitchen, by the ashes of the raked-out fire, he
discussed the situation with his wife.
"Did you tell him plain," said Mrs. Eldred, "that we'd 'ave no
triflin'?"
"I did."
"Did you tell 'im that if 'e was not certain sure 'e wanted 'er, there
was a young man who did?"
Eldred said nothing to that question. He lit a pipe and began to smoke
it.
"Did you tell 'im," his wife persisted, "about Mr. Robinson?"
"No, I didn't, old girl."
"Well, if it 'ad bin me I should have said, 'Mr. Tanqueray, for all
you've fam'ly on your side and that, we're not so awful anxious for Rose
to marry you. We'd rather 'ave a young man without fam'ly, in a good
line o' business and steady risin'. And we know of such as would give
'is 'ead to 'ave 'er.' That's wot I should 'ave said."
"I dessay you would. I didn't say it, because I don't want 'im to 'ave
'er. That I don't. And if 'e was wantin' to cry off, and I was to have
named Mr. Robinson, that'd 'ave bin the very thing to 'ave stirred 'im
up to gettin' 'er. That's wot men _is_, missis, and women, too, all of
'em I've ever set eyes on. Dorgs wot'll leave the bone you give 'em, to
fight for the bone wot another dorg 'e's got. Wot do you say to that,
Mrs. Smoker, old girl?"
Mrs. Smoker, the Aberdeen, pricked up her ears and smiled, with her eyes
only, after the manner of her breed.
"Anyhow," said Mrs. Eldred, "you let 'im see as 'ow we wasn't any way
snatchin' at 'im?"
"I did, missis."