On entering the house he found his; mother and step-father at high feud.
The I brows of the latter were knit, as was always the case when he
found himself bent upon mischief. He was calm, however, which was
another bad sign, for in him the old adage was completely reversed,
"After a storm comes a calm," whilst in his case it uniformly preceded
it.
Woodward looked about him with amazement; his step-father was standing
with his back to the parlor fire, holding the skirts of his coat divided
behind, whilst his wife stood opposite to him, her naturally red face
still naming more deeply with a tornado of indignation.
"And you dare to tell me that you'll consent to Charles's marriage with
her?"
"Yes, my dear, I dare to tell you so. You have no objection that she
should marry your son Harry there. You forgot or dissembled your scorn
and resentment against her, when you thought you could make a catch of
her property: a very candid and disinterested proceeding on your part,
Well, what's the consequence? That's all knocked up; the girl won't have
him, because she is attached to his brother, and because his brother is
attached to her.
Pages:
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368