"Yes," was the equally direct answer.
"Want to do him a good turn?" asked the scheming old man.
"Of course. What do you mean?" She was at his side now.
"He's got a chance to make a swell marriage," announced Uncle Henry.
"What?" There was a curious catch in Lucia's voice.
"A rich marriage," Uncle Henry went on, almost smacking his lips over the
words.
Lucia went over to the window, so that she would not face the invalid.
"Not as rich as yourn, of course," Uncle Henry pursued; "but rich for
him--and he won't do it." He waited for her to say something; but she did
not speak. There was a pause. Lucia looked out at the baking valley, and
off to the far mountains, and the ticking of the clock could be heard like
steady rain in a cistern. Then she went over to the table near the alcove,
where a few books were scattered about. She opened one, and pretended to
read. All the time Uncle Henry's eyes never left her. And she knew he was
searching her thoughts.
"He won't?" she finally said.
"No--the gol darn fool!" the old fellow screamed again.
"Does he--does he love her?" Lucia brought herself to ask.
Quick as a flash Uncle Henry came back: "Sure he does! It's the only thing
for him to do.
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