Slowly but surely his fetters were made secure. Two days later the widow
departed to spend six weeks with a sister; but any joy that he might have
felt over the circumstance was marred by the fact that he had to carry
her bags down to the railway station and see her off. The key of her
house was left with him, with strict injunctions to go in and water her
geraniums every day, while two canaries and a bullfinch had to be removed
to his own house in order that they might have constant attention and
company.
"She's doing it on purpose," said Mr. Smithson, fiercely; "she's binding
you hand and foot."
Mr. Clarkson assented gloomily. "I'm trusting to you, George," he
remarked.
"How'd it be to forget to water the geraniums and let the birds die
because they missed her so much?" suggested Mr. Smithson, after
prolonged thought.
Mr. Clarkson shivered.
"It would be a hint," said his friend.
Mr. Clarkson took some letters from the mantelpiece and held them up.
"She writes about them every day," he said, briefly, "and I have to
answer them."
"She--she don't refer to your getting married, I suppose?" said his
friend, anxiously.
Mr. Clarkson said "No. But her sister does," he added. "I've had two
letters from her."
Mr. Smithson got up and paced restlessly up and down the room.
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