"That's beyond your right—but no matter. In that house there is a father who loves his son and who respects himself. The father is miserable and humiliated. Do you recognize any responsibility in yourself for that?"
"Lord Fillingford once wanted to marry me—for my money, I think."
"I think you do him less than justice. Never mind that. I answer by asking you why he doesn't want to marry you now—even with your money."
"A very palpable hit!" said Jenny with a slight smile. "But did you come here only to say things like that? I know you think you have a right to say them—but what's the good?"
"The good is if they make you think—and I have a right to say them, though I fear your bitterness made me put them too harshly. If so, I beg your pardon. In whatever way I put them, the facts are there. Father and son are strangers in heart already; very soon they will be enemies if you persist in what you are doing."
"What am I doing?" asked Jenny, smiling again.
"Evil," he replied uncompromisingly. "Wanton evil if you don't mean to marry this young man—deliberate evil if you do."
"Why deliberate evil if I do?"
"You have no right to marry the son of that man. It would create a position unnatural, cruel, hideous."
"Alison, Alison!" I murmured. I thought that he was now "growing hot." But he took no notice of me—nor did Jenny.