"Then in fact you are not bound to her."
"No; I am not;—not what I call bound. She's a handsome woman you know,—very handsome."
"I suppose so."
"And she'd do the drawing-room well, and the sitting at the top of the table, and all that kind of thing."
"But it's such a deuced heavy price to pay," said Captain McCollop.
"I should not have minded the price," said Sir Francis, not quite understanding his friend's remark, "if she hadn't made me ridiculous in this way. The Fiascos and the Disgrazias! What the devil are they to our old English families? If she had let it remain as it was, I might have gone through with it. But as she has told all Exeter and got that stuff put into the newspapers, she must take the consequences. One is worse than another, as far as I can see." By this Sir Francis intended to express his opinion that Miss Altifiorla was at any rate quite as bad as Cecilia Holt.
But the next thing to be decided was the mode of escape. Though Sir Francis had declared that he was not what he called bound, yet he knew that he must take some steps in the matter to show that he considered himself to be free; and as the Captain was a clever man, and well conversant with such things, he was consulted. "I should say, take a run abroad for a short time," said the Captain.
"Is that necessary?"
"You'd avoid some of the disagreeables. People will talk, and your relatives at Exeter might kick up a row."
"Oh, d—— my relatives."