But, as I said before--on a condition."
"Hum!" quoth my uncle Jervas, dropping his glass to tenderly stroke
his somewhat too prominent chin.
"And might we humbly venture to enquire as to the condition?"
"Merely this, sir; so soon as Aunt Julia is freed of her incubus--so
soon as I am gone--you will see to it she is not lonely. You will woo
her, beginning at once, both together or turn about, because I would
not have her--this best, this noblest and most generous of
women--forfeit anything of happiness on my account; because, having
neither father nor mother that I ever remember, the love and reverence
that should have been theirs I have given to her."
"Lord!" exclaimed my uncle George, clashing his spurs suddenly. "Lord
love the lad--begad--oh, the dooce!"
As for uncle Jervas, forgetting his languor, he stood suddenly erect,
frowning, his chin more aggressive than ever.
"You haven't been drinking, have you, Peregrine?" he demanded.
"No, sir!"
"Then you must be mad!"
"I think not, sir. Howbeit, I shall go!"
"Preposterousandamridiculous!" he exclaimed in a breath.
"Possibly, sir!" quoth I, squaring my shoulders resolutely. "But my
mind is resolved--"
"Julia--your aunt, will never permit such tom-fool nonsense, boy!"
"I am determined, sir!" said I, folding my arms. "I go for her
sake--her future happiness--"
"Happiness?" cried my uncle George, pulling at his whisker, "'t would
break her heart, Perry; she'd grieve, boy, aye, begad she would--she'd
grieve, as I say, and--grieve, d'ye see--"
"Then you must comfort her--you or Uncle Jervas, or both! Woo her, win
her whoever can, only make her happy--that happiness she has denied
herself for my sake, all these years.
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