"Oh, don't;—pray don't. Anything will be better than that. It is so good to wait." She was thinking only of Ralph, and of his interests, but she could not forget the lesson which she was daily teaching to herself.
"If I can help it, I shall not sell it."
"Papa will help you;—will he not? If I were you they should drag me in pieces before I would part with my birthright;—and such a birthright!" It had occurred to her once that Ralph might feel that, after what had passed between them one night on the lawn, he was bound not to wait, that it was his duty so to settle his affairs that he might at once go to her father and say,—"Though I shall never be Mr. Newton of Newton, I have still such and such means of supporting your daughter." Ah! if he would only be open with her, and tell her everything, he would soon know how unnecessary it was to make a sacrifice for her. He pressed her hand as he left her, and said a word that was a word of comfort. "Clary, I cannot speak with certainty, but I do not think that it will be sold."
"I am so glad!" she said. "Oh, Ralph, never, never part with it." And then she blushed, as she thought of what she had said. Could it be that he would think that she was speaking for her own sake;—because she looked forward to reigning some day as mistress of Newton Priory? Ah, no, Ralph would never misinterpret her thoughts in a manner so unmanly as that!
The day came, and it was absolutely necessary that the answer should be given. Neefit came to prompt him again, and seemed to sit on the sofa with more feeling of being at home than he had displayed before. He brought his cheque-book with him, and laid it rather ostentatiously upon the table. He had good news, too, from Polly. "If Mr. Newton would come down to Margate, she would be ever so glad." That was the message as given by Mr. Neefit, but the reader will probably doubt that it came exactly in those words from Polly's lips. Ralph was angry, and shook his head in wrath. "Well, Captain, how's it to be?" asked Mr. Neefit.
"I shall let my uncle know that I intend to keep my property," said Ralph, with as much dignity as he knew how to assume.
The breeches-maker jumped up and crowed,—actually crowed, as might have crowed a cock. It was an art that he had learned in his youth. "That's my lad of wax," he said, slapping Ralph on the shoulder. "And now tell us how much it's to be," said he, opening the cheque-book. But Ralph declined to take money at the present moment, endeavouring to awe the breeches-maker back into sobriety by his manner. Neefit did put up his cheque-book, but was not awed back into perfect sobriety. "Come to me, when you want it, and you shall have it, Captain. Don't let that chap as 'as the 'orses be any way disagreeable. You tell him he can have it all when he wants it. And he can;—be blowed if he can't. We'll see it through, Captain. And now, Captain, when'll you come out and see Polly?" Ralph would give no definite answer to this,—on account of business, but was induced at last to send his love to Miss Neefit. "That man will drive me into a lunatic asylum at last," he said to himself, as he threw himself into his arm-chair when Neefit had departed.
Nevertheless, he wrote his letter to his uncle's lawyer, Mr. Carey, as follows:—
—— Club, 20 Sept., 186—.
Dear Sir,—
After mature consideration I have resolved upon declining the offer made to me by my uncle respecting the Newton property.
Faithfully yours,
Ralph Newton.
Richard Carey, Esq.
It was very short, but it seemed to him to contain all that there was to be said. He might, indeed, have expressed regret that so much trouble had been occasioned;—but the trouble had been taken not for his sake, and he was not bound to denude himself of his property because his uncle had taken trouble.