“I tell you kindly that we (who, you will acknowledge, must count for something here) do not sanction any change that revolutionizes our domestic relations,” said Wilfrid; while Mrs. Chump heaved and rolled on the swell of the big words like an overladen boat. “You have only to understand so much, and this--that if we resist it, as we do, you, by continuing to contemplate it, are provoking a contest which will probably injure neither you nor me, but will be death to ham in his present condition.”
Mrs. Chump was heard to mumble that she alone knew the secret of restoring him to health, and that he was rendered peaky and poky only by people supposing him so.
“An astonishin' thing!” she burst out. “If I kiss 'm and say 'Poor Pole!' he's poor Pole on the spot. And, if onnly I--”
But Wilfrid's stern voice flowed over her. “Listen, madam, and let this be finished between us. You know well that when a man has children, he may wish to call another woman wife--a woman not their mother; but the main question is, will his children consent to let her take that place? We are of one mind, and will allow no one--no one--to assume that position. And now, there's an end. We'll talk like friends. I have only spoken in that tone that you might clearly comprehend me on an important point. I know you entertain a true regard for my father, and it is that belief which makes me--”
“Friends!” cried Mrs. Chump, getting courage from the savour of cajolery in these words. “Friends! Oh, ye fox! ye fox!”
And now commenced a curious duett. Wilfrid merely wished to terminate his sentence; Mrs. Chump wantonly sought to prevent him. Each was burdened with serious matter; but they might have struck hands here, had not this petty accidental opposition interposed. --“Makes me feel confident...” Wilfrid resumed.
“And Pole's promos, Mr. Wilfrud; ye're forgettin' that.”
“An' it's for his sake. And weak as he is on 's legs, poor fells; which marr'ge 'll cure, bein' a certain rem'dy.”
“Mr. Wilfrud! and I can see too, and it's three weeks and ye kissed little Belloni in the passage, outside this vary door, and out in the garden.”
The blow was entirely unexpected, and took Wilfrid's breath, so that he was not ready for his turn in this singular piece of harmony.