“I think they have decided that they would prefer the wedding in the church, and a little reception at the house afterwards.  Of course we are comparatively strangers in Banbridge, but there are people one can always ask to a function of the sort, and I think Ina—­”

“Arthur, there is something I would like to propose.”

“What, old fellow?”

Major Arms hesitated.  Carroll waited, smoking as he sauntered along.  The other man held his cigar, which had gone out, in his mouth; evidently he was nervous about his proposition.  Finally he blurted it out with the sharpness of a pistol-shot.  “Arthur, I want to defray the expenses of the wedding,” he said.

Carroll removed his cigar.  “See you damned first,” said he, coolly, but with emphasis, and then replaced it.

Major Arms turned furiously towards him, but he restrained himself.  “Why?” he said, with forced calm.

“Because if I cannot pay my daughter’s bridal expenses she never marries you nor any other man,” said Carroll.

Then the Major blazed out.  He stopped short and moved before Carroll on the sidewalk.  “If,” said he—­“if—­you think I marry your daughter if her father goes in debt for the wedding expenses, you are mistaken.”

Carroll said nothing.  He stood as if stunned.  The other went on with a burst of furious truth:  “See here, Arthur Carroll,” said he, “I like you, and you know how I feel about your girl.  She is the one thing I have wanted for my happiness all my life, and I know I can take care of her and make her happy; and I like you in spite of—­in spite of your outs.  I’m ashamed of myself for liking you, but I do; but you needn’t think I don’t see you, that I don’t know you, because I do.  I knew when you went to the dogs after you failed in your mine, just as well as you did yourself.  You went to the dogs, and you’ve been at the dogs’ ever since; you’re there now, and you’ve dragged your family with you so far as they’re the sort to be dragged.  They aren’t, altogether, lucky for them; the girls especially aren’t, at least not so far.  Lord knows when it would come to them.  But I’m going to take Ina away from the dogs, out of sound of a yelp even of ’em; and, as for me, I’ll be hanged if you get me there!  I know you for just what you are.  I know you’ve prowled and preyed like a coyote ever since you were preyed on yourself.  I know you, but I love Ina.  But I tell you one thing, Arthur Carroll, now you can take your choice.  Either you let me pay the wedding expenses or you give up the wedding.”

“Ina,” began Carroll, in a curious, helpless fashion, “she has set her heart on the wedding—­her—­dress and everything.”

“I can’t help that,” said Arms, sternly.  “This is of more importance even than her pleasure.  Take your choice.  Let me pay or let us be married in the quietest manner possible.”

“I consent to the latter,” Carroll said, still in that beaten tone.