He ain't got no right to be livin' alone. All he don't get
skinned out of he gives away. Never gets nothin' to eat. If ever a feller
needed a nice, sensible wife to take care of him, it's Gil. I know. Ain't I
his uncle?"
"You think she would--make him--a good wife?" Lucia Pell got the words out
somehow, never lifting her eyes from the printed page.
"The finest in the world!" Uncle Henry affirmed. "Now, looky here, Mis'
Pell: He won't listen to me--funny the way folks are about their relatives.
But I was thinkin' that mebbe if you was to ask him--"
Lucia was startled. "I?" she said.
The wheel chair bobbed about. "Yes. You and him bein' old friends that way,
mebbe he'd pay some attention to you. Make him see what a gol darn fool he
is and give him h----. Give it to him good! It's a wonderful chance. He'll
never get another. Darned if I see how he ever got this. But he has. And
what we gotter do is to make him take it." He paused; but she said nothing.
He waited a moment. Then,--"What do you say? Will you?"
"You--think he should?"
"I know darn well he should!"
Lucia closed the book and put it down. She looked straight at Uncle Henry.
"I should think he would see it for himself.
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