So Elizabeth went out of the room silent and with 25 her head drooping a little. The word “penniless” was a shock to her. She sat down in a large chair with her back to the light and shut her eyes. She wished to set the two men clearly before her. It would be easy to love Robert Burrell if she did not love the other. Did she love the other? She examined her heart pitilessly, and found always some little “if” crouching in a corner. In some way or other it was evident she did not believe “the other” would stand trial.
Mr. Tresham had the same opinion in a more positive form, and he was quite willing to test it. He met the rector with more effusion than was usual with him, and putting on his hat said:
“Walk around the garden with me, sir. I have something to say to you, and as I am a father you must permit me to speak very plainly. I believe you are in love with Elizabeth?”
There was no answer from the young man, and his face was pale and angry.
“Well, sir! Am I right or wrong?”
“Sir, I respect and like Miss Tresham. Everyone must do so, I think.”
“Have you asked her to marry you?”
“Oh, dear, no! Nothing of the kind, sir; nothing of the kind!”
“I thought not. Well, you see, sir, your dangling about my house keeps honest men outside, and I would be obliged to you, sir––in fact, sir, I require you at once to make Miss Tresham understand that your protestations are lies––simple and straightforward lies, sir. I insist on your telling her that your 26 love-making is your amusement and girls’ hearts the pawns with which you play. You will tell her that you are a scoundrel, sir! And when you have explained yourself to Miss Tresham, you had better give the same information to Miss Trelawny, and to Miss Rose Trefuses, and to that poor little sewing-girl you practise your recitations on. Sir, I have the greatest contempt for you, and when you have spoken to Miss Tresham, you will leave my house and come here no more.”
“It will give me pleasure to obey you, sir.”