“The fire?”—he had terrible figures. “Out of the mud, if you prefer. You must pick it up, do you see? My plan is, in short, that when we’ve brushed it off and rubbed it down a bit, blown away the dust and touched up the rust, my daughter shall gracefully bear it.” “And pray is it also Captain Yule’s plan?” Her father’s face warned her off the ground of irony, but he replied without violence. “His plans have not yet quite matured. But nothing is more natural than that they shall do so on the sunny south wall of Miss Prodmore’s best manner.”
Miss Prodmore’s spirit was visibly rising. “You speak of them, papa, as if they were sour little plums! You exaggerate, I think, the warmth of Miss Prodmore’s nature. It has always been thought remarkably cold.” “Then you’ll be so good, my dear, as to confound—it mightn’t be amiss even a little to scandalise—that opinion. I’ve spent twenty years in giving you what your poor mother used to call advantages, and they’ve cost me hundreds and hundreds of pounds. It’s now time that, both as a parent and as a man of business, I should get my money back. I couldn’t help your temper, nor your taste, nor even your unfortunate resemblance to the estimable, but far from ornamental, woman who brought you forth; but I paid out a small fortune that you should have, damn you, don’t you know? a good manner. You never show it to me, certainly; but do you mean to tell me that, at this time of day—for other persons—you haven’t got one?”
This pulled our young lady perceptibly up. “If you mean by ‘other persons’ persons who are particularly civil—well, Captain Yule may not see his way to be one of them. He may not think—don’t you see?—that I’ve a good manner.” “Do your duty, Miss, and never mind what he thinks!” Her father’s conception of her duty momentarily sharpened. “Don’t look at him like a sick turkey, and he’ll be sure to think right.”
The colour that sprang into Cora’s face at this rude comparison was such, unfortunately, as perhaps a little to justify it. Yet she retained some remnant of presence of mind. “I remember your saying once that that was just what he would be sure not to do: I mean when he began to go in for his dreadful ideas——” Mr. Prodmore took her boldly up. “About the ‘radical programme,’ the ‘social revolution,’ the spoliation of everyone, and the destruction of everything? Why, you stupid thing, I’ve worked round to a complete agreement with him. The taking from those who have by those who haven’t——” “Well?” said the girl, with some impatience. “What is it but to receive, from consenting hands, the principal treasure of the rich? If I’m rich, my daughter is my largest property, and I freely make her over. I shall, in other words, forgive my young friend his low opinions if he renounces them for you.”
Cora, at this, started as with a glimpse of delight. “He won’t renounce them! He shan’t!” Her father appeared still to enjoy the ingenious way he had put it. “If you suggest that you’re in political sympathy with him, you mean then that you’ll take him as he is?” “I won’t take him at all!” she protested with her head very high; but she had no sooner uttered the words than the sound of the approach of wheels caused her dignity to drop. “A fly?—it must be he!” She turned right and left for a retreat, but her father had already caught her by the wrist. “Surely,” she pitifully panted, “you don’t want me to bounce on him thus?” Mr. Prodmore, as he held her, estimated the effect. “Your frock won’t do—with what it cost me?” “It’s not my frock, papa,—it’s his thinking I’ve come here for him to see me!” He let her go and, as she moved away, had another look for the social value of the view of her stout back.
“The way to ‘hook’ him will be not to be hopelessly vulgar. He doesn’t know that you know anything.” The house-bell clinked, and he waved her away. “Await us there with tea, and mind you toe the mark!” Chivers, summoned by the bell, reappeared in the morning-room doorway, and Cora’s dismay brushed him as he sidled past. Then, from the threshold of her refuge, she launched a last appeal. “Don’t kill me, father: give me time!” With which she dashed into the room, closing the door with a bang.
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