Woodstock motioned to
him to resume his seat.
"As we're talking," he began, "I may as well have over something
that's on my mind. Why haven't you told Ida yet about that
engagement of yours?"
"Haven't _you_ done so?" Waymark asked, in surprise.
"Did you think I had?"
"Why, yes, I did."
"I've done nothing of the kind," Abraham returned, pretending to be
surprised at the supposition, though he knew it was a perfectly
natural one.
Waymark was silent.
"Don't you think," the other pursued, "it's about time something was
said to her?"
"I can't see that it matters, and--"
"But I _can_ see. As long as that isn't known you're here, to speak
plainly, on false pretences."
"Then I won't come here at all!"
"Very good," exclaimed the old man irritably, "so long as you
explain to her first."
Waymark turned away, and stood gazing gloomily at the floor. Abraham
regarded him, and a change came over his hard face.
"Now, look here," he said, "there's something in all this I can't
make out. Is this engagement a serious one?"
"Serious?" returned the other, with a look of misery. "How can it be
otherwise?"
"Very well; in that case you're bound to let Ida know about it, and
at once.
Pages:
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475