Dale, outraged too, spoke with increasing sternness. "You don't deny
you've got a wife?"
The higgler answered very gravely. "Mr. Dale, that's my misfortune,
not my fault. But my wife isn't going to last forever, and the day
she's gone--that is, the day after I've buried her decently--I shall
come here to Mary Parsons and say 'Mary'--mind you, I've never called
her Mary yet--I shall say, 'Mary, my lips are unsealed, and I ask you
to be my true and lawful second wife.'"
They could make nothing of the higgler.
"It's seven years," he went on, "since Doctor Hollin said to me, 'I
have to warn you Mrs. Druitt isn't going to make old bones.' However,
we find it a long job. There's a proverb, isn't there? Creaking
doors!"
Mavis was inexpressibly shocked. "How can you talk of your wife so?
Have you no feelings for her?"
"Mrs. Dale," said the higgler, solemnly, "I married my first wife for
money, and I've been punished for my mistake. That's why I made up my
mind I'd marry next time for love--in choosing a wholesome maiden and
not asking what she'd got sewed in her petticoat or harbored in the
bank;" and, nodding, he again gave his curious self-satisfied wink.
"Mr. Dale, you tell her to wait patiently. I'll be true to her, if
she'll be true to me." Then he rose, and smiling sheepishly, once more
addressed Mrs. Dale. "The purpose of my call this morning was to say I
shall have some _good_ bacon next week."
Mavis refused the bacon, and Dale said a few words of stern rebuke.
"I can tell you, Mr. Druitt, I take a very poor opinion of your
manhood and proper feeling."
Then Mavis interposed to check her husband. The fact was, she felt
baffled by the situation and utterly at a loss as to what would be the
best way of dealing with it. Whatever one might think of Mr. Druitt
one's self, there was Mary to be considered. What would ultimately be
best for her? The man was warm; and Mary, who was not growing younger,
said she liked him.
"I'll wish you good morning," said the higgler.
Then, when they thought he had been long gone and Mavis was talking
to Mary, he put in his head at the kitchen doorway.
"Will this make any difference?" he asked shyly. "Should I call
again--or do you forbid me the house?"
The three women, Mavis, Mary and Mrs. Goudie, all looked at one
another, quite perplexed.
"Er--no," said Mavis, after a pause. "You can call. I may, just
possibly, be wanting bacon next week."
"It's a real beautiful side;" and, without a glance at Mary, he
disappeared.
Then Mary instantaneously decided that she would wait for him, and not
break with him; and she asked Mrs. Dale to run out and tell him that
she would wait.
But that Mavis could not do. It would be too undignified. Mary must
restrain her emotions till next week, and tell him herself.