"What should I do ?" he inquired again, hopefully.
"I don't know, I'm sure," said the other, opening the oven door and peering in.

"How should I ?" At the imminent risk of something inside giving way under the strain, Mr.
Vickers restrained himself.

He breathed hard, and glancing out of window sought to regain his equilibrium by becoming interested in a blackbird outside.
"What I mean to say is," he said at length, in a trembling voice--"what I mean to say is, without no round-aboutedness, will you lend a 'ard-working man, what's going to be your future father-in-law, a couple o' pounds ?" Mr.Tasker laughed.

It was not a loud laugh, nor yet a musical one.
It was merely a laugh designed to convey to the incensed Mr.Vickers a strong sense of the absurdity of his request.
"I asked you a question," said the latter gentleman, glaring at him.
"I haven't got a couple o' pounds," replied Mr.Tasker; "and if I 'ad, there's nine hundred and ninety-nine things I would sooner do with it than lend it to you." Mr.Vickers rose and stood regarding the ignoble creature with profound contempt.

His features worked and a host of adjectives crowded to his lips.
[Illustration: "Mr.Vickers rose and stood regarding the ignoble creature with profound contempt."] "Is that your last word, Joseph ?" he inquired, with solemn dignity.
"I'll say it all over again if you like," said the obliging Mr.Tasker.
"If you want money, go and earn it, same as I have to; don't come round 'ere cadging on me, because it's no good." Mr.Vickers laughed; a dry, contemptuous laugh, terrible to hear.
"And that's the man that's going to marry my daughter," he said, slowly; "that's the man that's going to marry into my family.