He knew in fact that if Matilda refused him he
would take everything, and go off with it.
'A clever little mannie--!' said Emmie, with a jeering grimace.
The father laughed noiselessly to himself. But he was tired....
'Go on, then,' he said. 'Go on, let me be quiet.'
Emmie turned and looked at him.
'You deserve what you've got,' she said to her father bluntly.
'Go on,' he answered mildly. 'Go on.'
Another night passed--a night nurse sat up with Mr. Rockley. Another day
came. Hadrian was there as ever, in his woollen jersey and coarse khaki
trousers and bare neck. Matilda went about, frail and distant, Emmie
black-browed in spite of her blondness. They were all quiet, for they did
not intend the mystified servant to learn anything.
Mr. Rockley had very bad attacks of pain, he could not breathe. The end
seemed near. They all went about quiet and stoical, all unyielding.
Hadrian pondered within himself. If he did not marry Matilda he would go
to Canada with twenty thousand pounds. This was itself a very
satisfactory prospect. If Matilda consented he would have nothing--she
would have her own money.
Emmie was the one to act. She went off in search of the solicitor and
brought him with her. There was an interview, and Whittle tried to
frighten the youth into withdrawal--but without avail. The clergyman and
relatives were summoned--but Hadrian stared at them and took no notice.
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