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Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
10
It
had
all
seemed
like
a
dream:
and
now
Edwin
Einstein
had
come
in
person
to
ask
her
hand
from
the
earl,
her
father.
Indeed,
he
was
at
this
moment
in
the
outer
hall
testing
the
gold
leaf
in
the
picture-frames
with
his
pen-knife
while
waiting
for
his
affianced
to
break
the
fateful
news
to
Lord
Oxhead.
Gwendoline
summoned
her
courage
for
a
great
effort.
"Papa,"
she
said,
"there
is
one
other
thing
that
it
is
fair
to
tell
you.
Edwin's
father
is
in
business."
The
earl
started
from
his
seat
in
blank
amazement.
"In
business!"
he
repeated,
"the
father
of
the
suitor
of
the
daughter
of
an
Oxhead
in
business!
My
daughter
the
step-daughter
of
the
grandfather
of
my
grandson!
Are
you
mad,
girl?
It
is
too
much,
too
much!"
"But,
father,"
pleaded
the
beautiful
girl
in
anguish,
"hear
me.
It
is
Edwin's
father--Sarcophagus
Einstein,
senior--not
Edwin
himself.
Edwin
does
nothing.
He
has
never
earned
a
penny.
He
is
quite
unable
to
support
himself.
You
have
only
to
see
him
to
believe
it.
Indeed,
dear
father,
he
is
just
like
us.
He
is
here
now,
in
this
house,
waiting
to
see
you.
If
it
were
not
for
his
great
wealth...."
"Girl,"
said
the
earl
sternly,
"I
care
not
for
the
man's
riches.
How
much
has
he?"
"Fifteen
million
two
hundred
and
fifty
thousand
dollars,"
answered
Gwendoline.
Lord
Oxhead
leaned
his
head
against
the
mantelpiece.
His
mind
was
in
a
whirl.
He
was
trying
to
calculate
the
yearly
interest
on
fifteen
and
a
quarter
million
dollars
at
four
and
a
half
per
cent
reduced
to
pounds,
shillings,
and
pence.
It
was
bootless.
His
brain,
trained
by
long
years
of
high
living
and
plain
thinking,
had
become
too
subtle,
too
refined
an
instrument
for
arithmetic....
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