The Girl on the Boat Part 37

"All wrong! All wrong!" said Sam, with a reproving shake of the head.

"All wrong! She's going to marry me."

Mr. Bennett scorched him with a look compared with which his earlier effort had been a loving glance.

"Wilhelmina," he said, "go into the outer office."

"But, father, Sam saved my life!"

"Go into the outer office and wait for me there."

"There was a lunatic in here...."

"There will be another if you don't go."

"He had a pistol."

"Go into the outer office!"

"I shall always love you, Sam!" said Billie, pausing mutinously at the door.

"I shall always love _you_!" said Sam cordially.

"n.o.body can keep us apart!"

"They're wasting their time, trying."

"You're the most wonderful man in the world!"

"There never was another girl like you!"

"Get _out_!" bellowed Mr. Bennett, on whose equanimity this love-scene, which I think beautiful, was jarring profoundly. "Now, sir!" he said to Sam, as the door closed.

"Yes, let's talk it over calmly," said Sam.

"I will not talk it over calmly!"

"Oh, come! You can do it if you try. In the first place, whatever put this silly idea into your head about that sweet girl marrying Bream Mortimer?"

"Bream Mortimer is the son of Henry Mortimer."

"I know," said Sam. "And, while it is no doubt unfair to hold that against him, it's a point you can't afford to ignore. Henry Mortimer!

You and I have Henry Mortimer's number. We know what Henry Mortimer is like! A man who spends his time thinking up ways of annoying you. You can't seriously want to have the Mortimer family linked to you by marriage."

"Henry Mortimer is my oldest friend."

"That makes it all the worse. Fancy a man who calls himself your friend treating you like that!"

"The misunderstanding to which you allude has been completely smoothed over. My relations with Mr. Mortimer are thoroughly cordial."

"Well, have it your own way. Personally, I wouldn't trust a man like that. And, as for letting my daughter marry his son...!"

"I have decided once and for all...."

"If you'll take my advice, you will break the thing off."

"I will not take your advice."

"I wouldn't expect to charge you for it," explained Sam rea.s.suringly. "I give it you as a friend, not as a lawyer. Six-and-eightpence to others, free to you."

"Will you understand that my daughter is going to marry Bream Mortimer?

What are you giggling about?"

"It sounds so silly. The idea of anyone marrying Bream Mortimer, I mean."

"Let me tell you he is a thoroughly estimable young man."

"And there you put the whole thing in a nutsh.e.l.l. Your daughter is a girl of spirit. She would hate to be tied for life to an estimable young man."

"She will do as I tell her."

Sam regarded him sternly.

"Have you no regard for her happiness?"

"I am the best judge of what is best for her."

"If you ask me," said Sam candidly, "I think you're a rotten judge."

"I did not come here to be insulted!"

"I like that! You have been insulting me ever since you arrived. What right have you to say that I'm not fit to marry your daughter?"

"I did not say that."

"You've implied it. And you've been looking at me as if I were a leper or something the Pure Food Committee had condemned. Why? That's what I ask you," said Sam, warming up. This he fancied, was the way Widgery would have tackled a troublesome client. "Why? Answer me that!"

"I...."

Sam rapped sharply on the desk.

"Be careful, sir. Be very careful!" He knew that this was what lawyers always said. Of course, there is a difference in position between a miscreant whom you suspect of an attempt at perjury and the father of the girl you love, whose consent to the match you wish to obtain, but Sam was in no mood for these nice distinctions. He only knew that lawyers told people to be very careful, so he told Mr. Bennett to be very careful.

"What do you mean, be very careful?" said Mr. Bennett.

"I'm dashed if I know," said Sam frankly. The question struck him as a mean attack. He wondered how Widgery would have met it. Probably by smiling quietly and polis.h.i.+ng his spectacles. Sam had no spectacles. He endeavoured, however, to smile quietly.

"Don't laugh at me!" roared Mr. Bennett.