e, not in the least perturbed:

"Of course, if you're going to be nasty about it--" Then, sweetly, to
Gilbert she continued: "Please don't think too badly of us, Mr. Jones.
Father doesn't really mean any harm."

"No more'n a rattlesnake," Uncle Henry leaned out of his chair to whisper
in a voice that could be heard by everyone.

"It's just that he doesn't know any better," Angela went on to Gilbert.
"He's really very neighborly when he wants to be."

She rose, and "Red" offered her his arm; but she haughtily rejected it, and
went out the door, unaware that the devoted and humble "Red" followed her.

Jasper Hardy was glad she had gone. He could speak freely now. He addressed
Jones.

"Packed up yet?" he inquired, sarcastically, as though he meant to intimate
that his coming journey would be a pleasant one.

Gilbert could have struck him; but he replied quietly: "I'll just put on my
hat and I'll be ready."

But the literal-minded Hardy remarked:

"Them crockery, and the rugs?" pointing to the articles significantly.

"The rugs I'm presenting to a friend of mine. The crockery goes to the
cook. He has a family, you know." His irony was lost on the imperturbable
Hardy, who merely asked:

"And you ain't got anything more to say, Jones?" He watched him closely.

"Nothing of general interest."

But Uncle Henry wasn't going to let matters end here.

"I've got something to say," he announced like an oracle. "Your daughter
wants to marry him!" He imagined this would prove a thunderbolt; but Hardy
calmly asked:

"How do you know that?"

"Because she told me, that's how! And if only the gol darn fool would do it
like I want him to--" He addressed himself suddenly to his nephew, who now
stood on the other side of the table: "Aw, come on. Be a good feller, won't
you?"

Again this outlandish interfering on the part of Uncle Henry! Was the old
fellow losing his reason? There was no privacy in their affairs--everything
was an open book to anyone who came to the adobe. It was getting to be
unbearable. Gilbert had controlled himself long enough in the presence of
others. He was sick and tired of the old man's meddling.

"Keep still!" he warned him, and shook his finger in his face, "Keep still,
I say!" His cheeks were scarlet with rage. The blood pounded in his veins.

The invalid never lost his courage. "You won't marry her?" was what he
said.

"How can I, you--you--" Gilbert could scarcely stand it any longer.

"