"Ask who what?" Lucia asked. She was not a little interested now. She came
back into the room.
"Ask him about marryin'--you know. I gotter find out because Hardy's
comin'." No speech could have been plainer and balder. "Did you?"
Lucia was nonplussed at the old man's crude directness. "Yes--I mean no. I
don't remember."
"Don't remember!" Uncle Henry yelled. "But that's what I left you here for!
We had it all framed up! Why didn't you?"
Lucia's head drooped a bit. "We were talking about something else."
The crabbed man was inflamed by this reply. "What was you talkin' about
that was so gol darned important that you forgot the only important thing
there was to talk about?... Well?" he cried, when she said nothing. "By
gollies! I remember now! You was the gal he wouldn't ask to marry him
because he didn't have no money!" He did not notice that his nephew had
come back from the other room just in time to hear this last remark. He
went on relentlessly to Lucia: "And me like a poor boob forgettin' all
about it until now!" He suddenly saw Gilbert, and, not a whit abashed,
turned on him. "So that's why you won't marry Hardy's daughter! I see it
all now! I've been as blind as a hoot-owl!"
There came the sound of a Ford stopping outside, and footsteps approached
up the path that led to the adobe.
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