As for Jake, he turned back into the room with the utmost confidence and shut himself in with an air of decision.
"Now, sir," he said, "if you’ve any complaint to make, p’raps you’ll be good enough to mention it to me right now, and I’ll deal with the same. I’m not going to have my girl bullied any more."
His voice was quiet, even slightly drawling, but his eyes shone with something of a glare. He came straight to the old man, who still leaned on his umbrella, and stood before him.
The latter gazed at him ferociously, and for a space they remained thus, stubbornly fixing each other. Then abruptly the old man spoke.
"You’re very masterful, young fellow-my-lad. I suppose you think yourself one of the lords of creation, good enough for anybody, hey?"
Jake’s stern face relaxed slowly. "I don’t claim to be a prince of the blood," he said, "but I reckon I’ve got some--points."
"And you reckon you’re good enough to marry my niece?" snapped Uncle Edward.
Jake squared his shoulders. "I shall make her a better husband than some," he said.
The old man smote the floor with his umbrella. "Shall you? And has she told you that she’s in love with another man?"
Jake’s right hand went suddenly deep into his pocket and remained there. "I am aware that she was once," he said, speaking very deliberately. "But that is over. Also, he was not the man for her."
"A scoundrel, hey? Not a sound man like yourself?" There was a malicious note in the query, but Jake ignored it.
"He does not count anyway," he said, with finality. "If he did, your niece wouldn’t have come to me for protection. I believe she appealed to you first, but you had more important things to attend to. With me it was otherwise, and so I consider that I have a greater right to be her protector than anyone else in the world."
"Do you?" said Uncle Edward. "That means you’re in love with her, I suppose?"
Jake’s eyes fenced with his. "You may take it to mean that if it pleases you to do so," he said.
The old man raked his throat pugnaciously. "It’s damn’ presumption. I tell you that," he said.
"But it doesn’t alter your intentions, hey? You’re one of the cussed sort, I can see. Well, look here, young man! I’ll make you a proposal. You seem to think I’ve neglected my duty, though heaven knows these Brians have no claims on me. But I’ve taken a fancy to the girl. She’s gentle, which is more than can be said for most of your modern young women. So you just listen to me for a minute! You’re on a wrong tack altogether. Courting should come before marriage, not after. You may marry first and you may think for a time that all is going to be well between you, but there’ll come a day when you’ll wake up and find that in spite of all you haven’t won her. And that’ll mean misery for you both. Don’t you do it, young man! You’ll find the game’s not worth the candle. You have a little patience! Let the girl come to me for a bit! I may be old, but I’ll protect her. And if you care to come after her, and do a little courting now and then, well--it’s not a very brilliant match for her, but I shan’t forbid it."