“Wat! wat you have de shame, you have de pluck, ah! to tell me you know not where she is, and you bring me a letter? Ho!--you have de cheeks to tell me!”
This highly effective pluralizing of their peculiar slang, brought a roar of applause from the crowd of Britons.
“Only a street row,” said Mr. Pole, to calm Emilia.
“I see a couple of policemen handy,” said Mr. Pole, and Emilia cowered down and clung to his hand as they drove from the place.
It was midnight. Mr. Pole had appeased his imagination with a chop, and was trying to revive the memory of his old after-theatre night carouses by listening to a song which Emilia sang to him, while he sipped at a smoking mixture, and beat time on the table, rejoiced that he was warm from head to foot at last.
“That's a pretty song, my dear,” he said. “A very pretty song. It does for an old fellow; and so did my supper: light and wholesome. I'm an old fellow; I ought to know I've got a grown-up son and grown-up daughters. I shall be a grandpa, soon, I dare say. It's not the thing for me to go about hearing glees. I had an idea of it. I'm better here. All I want is to see my children happy, married and settled, and comfortable!”
Emilia stole up to him, and dropped on one knee: “You love them?”
“I do. I love my girls and my boy. And my brandy-and-water, do you mean to say, you rogue?”
“And me?” Emilia looked up at him beseechingly.
“Yes, and you. I do. I haven't known you long, my dear, but I shall be glad to do what I can for you. You shall make my house your home as long as you live; and if I say, make haste and get married, it's only just this: girls ought to marry young, and not be in an uncertain position.”
“To be sure you are! I should think so. You haven't got a penny; but, then, you're not for spending one. And”--Mr. Pole nodded to right and left like a man who silenced a host of invisible logicians, urging this and that--“you're a pleasant companion, thrifty, pretty, musical: by Jingo! what more do they want? They'll have their song and chop at home.”
“Yes; but suppose it depends upon their fathers?”
“Well, if their fathers will be fools, my dear, I can't help 'em. We needn't take 'em in a lump: how about the doctor? I'll see him to-morrow morning, and hear what he has to say. Shall I?”