"
Mr. Marrapit started. "She? Whom?"
George threw a blanket to hide the hideous blunder. "Told of such a
home as this is," he explained, "a true lady would come for anything."
The blunder sank, covered. "I earnestly pray that may be so," Mr.
Marrapit said. "I doubt. Rapacity and greed stalk the land. Mrs. Major
had five-and-twenty pounds per annum. I will not go above that
figure."
George told him: "Rely upon me. But, by a free hand I meant a free
hand as to engaging what I may think a suitable person."
"Emphatically no. You are the lower court. Sift sheep from goats. Send
sheep here to me. I am the tribunal. I will finally select."
The refusal placed a last obstacle in the path of George's scheme, but
he did not demur. Primarily he dared not. To demur might raise again
that blunder he had let escape when he had said, "She'll come for
anything"; this time it might rage around and not be captured. All
might be wrecked. Secondly he felt there to be no great need for
protest. The confidence of having won thus far gave him courage
against this final difficulty.
"Trust me, sir," he said.
Very soberly he paced from the room; gently closed the door; with the
tread of one bearing a full heart heavily moved up the stairs.
He reached his room; ripped off sobriety.
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