"
"Then I will tell you the plain truth of it," I said. "This marriage was
never anything more than the form we all agreed it should be at the
time; a makeshift to serve a purpose. If you think I would hold your
daughter to it--"
"Hut, tut, man! what will ye be havering about! Ye'll never cast the
poor bit lassie off that way! Ye canna, if ye would; her Church will
have a word to say to that."
For all his aping the manner of the ignored father, I shrewdly suspected
that he knew more about the ins and outs of our affair than he owned to.
Nevertheless, I was forced to meet him on his own ground.
"There is no 'casting off' about it, Mr. Stair; and as to the Church,
there is good ground for an appeal to Rome. The marriage as it stands
is little more than a formal betrothal, as you well know, sound enough
legally to make Mistress Margery my heir-at-law, mayhap, but still
lacking everything of--"
He could not wait to let me finish.
"Lacking, d'ye say?" he rapped out, wrathfully. "And whose fault is
that, ye cold-blooded stick? Tell me this; did I no bundle ye neck and
heels into your own wife's bed-room? And how do you thank me? I'm to
suppose ye quarrel wi' her like the dour-faced imp o' Sawtan that ye
are, and presently ye come raging out, swearing most shamefully at a man
old enough to be your father!"
'Twas far enough in the retrospect now so that I could smile at it. Yet
I would not suffer him to bluster me aside.
"It was an ill thing for you to do, none the less, Mr.
Pages:
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493