your Englishman?' Macarthy demanded, with a face that suddenly flushed.
'No, she's not engaged. I presume she wouldn't take that step without finding out how you'd feel. In fact that's what she said last night.'
'I feel like thunder, I feel like hell!' Macarthy exclaimed; 'and I hope you'll tell her so.'
Mrs. Grice looked frightened and pained. 'Well, my son, I'm glad you've come, if there is going to be any trouble.'
'Trouble—what trouble should there be? He can't marry her if she won't have him.'
'Well, she didn't say she wouldn't have him; she said the question hadn't come up. But she thinks it would come up if she were to give him any sort of opening. That's what I thought and that's what I wanted to make sure of.'
Macarthy looked at his mother for some moments in extreme seriousness; then he took out his watch and looked at that. 'What time is the first boat?' he asked.
'I don't know—there are a good many.'
'Well, we'll take the first—we'll quit this.' And the young man put back his watch and got up with decision.
His mother sat looking at him rather ruefully. 'Would you feel so badly if she were to do it?'
'She may do it without my consent; she shall never do it with,' said Macarthy Grice.
'Well, I could see last evening, by the way you acted—' his mother murmured, as if she thought it her duty to try and enter into his opposition.
'How did I act, ma'am?'
