"No; one can't have everything."
"If I am satisfied in that matter—" began Frank.
"Stop a moment, my dear boy," said the doctor. "As your father says, one can't have everything. My dear friend—" and he gave his hand to the squire—"do not be angry if I alluded for a moment to the estate. It has grieved me to see it melting away—the old family acres that have so long been the heritage of the Greshams."
"We need not talk about that now, Dr Thorne," said Frank, in an almost angry tone.
"But I must, Frank, for one moment, to justify myself. I could not have excused myself in letting Mary think that she could become your wife if I had not hoped that good might come of it."
"Well; good will come of it," said Frank, who did not quite understand at what the doctor was driving.
"I hope so. I have had much doubt about this, and have been sorely perplexed; but now I do hope so. Frank—Mr Gresham—" and then Dr Thorne rose from his chair; but was, for a moment, unable to go on with his tale.
"We will hope that it is all for the best," said the squire.
"I am sure it is," said Frank.
"Yes; I hope it is. I do think it is; I am sure it is, Frank. Mary will not come to you empty-handed. I wish for your sake—yes, and for hers too—that her birth were equal to her fortune, as her worth is superior to both. Mr Gresham, this marriage will, at any rate, put an end to your pecuniary embarrassments—unless, indeed, Frank should prove a hard creditor. My niece is Sir Roger Scatcherd's heir."