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"What right have you to ask such a question? I can attend to my own affairs without any interference from you or anyone else." "No, ye can't, young man, and that's why I'm here. You can't marry Miss Randall without my assistance. I'm a stand-between, you see, and so have come to your assistance." Donaster's face suddenly brightened, and he looked keenly at Grimsby.
"An' I s'pose ye'll carry through the persecution of that gal ye call yer daughter?" "What do you mean?" "Ye'll force her to marry that Lord's son, the feller with the wobbly knees an' brainless head?" "Yes, I am determined that she shall marry Lord Donaster's son. My mind is made up to that, and nothing can change it." "But ye haven't got yer daughter yit." "Oh, that's merely a matter of time.
Just you wait." "But suppose you are not Lord Donaster's son?" Grimsby's question was very deliberate, but it had an immediate effect. "Not his son! What are you driving at, anyway? Stop your nonsense. If I am not Lord Donaster's son, who am I, then?" "You are an impostor, that's what you are. There is no Lord Donaster. Your father is a shoemaker in the State of New Jersey.
He felt in a fighting mood, but he realised that he could do little, for Donaster's companion was a big burly fellow, of the fighting type. All this passed quickly through his mind as he stepped back and waited to see what the men would do. He did not have many seconds to wait, for Donaster, after peering keenly around as if expecting to see someone else, turned impatiently toward Eben.
As the wife of Lord Donaster's son she will occupy a very high position. She will be received into the best families, and eventually she will be Lady Donaster. You see, I am an only son, so the title will come to me. You can readily understand how anxious her parents are for the consummation of the marriage." "Certainly, certainly; it is only natural.
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