He told it very fairly as against himself. He brought out his little account and explained to the lawyer how it was that he made himself out to be worth fifty pounds a year, and no more. "Oh, heavens, what a mess you have made of it!" said the lawyer, holding up both his hands. "No doubt I have," said Ralph,—"a terrible mess! But as I now come to you for advice hear me out to the end. You can say nothing as to my folly which I do not know already." "Go on," said Sir Thomas. "Go on,—I'll hear you." It may, however, be remarked, by the way, that when an old gentleman in Sir Thomas's position is asked his advice under such circumstances, he ought to be allowed to remark that he had prophesied all these things beforehand. "I told you so," is such a comfortable thing to say! And when an old gentleman has taken much fruitless trouble about a young gentleman, he ought at least not to be interrupted in his remarks as to that young gentleman's folly. But Ralph was energetic, and, knowing that he had a point before him, would go on with his story. "And now," he said, "I am coming to a way of putting these things right which has been suggested to me. You won't like it, I know. But it would put me on my legs."
"Raising money on your expectations?" said Sir Thomas.
"No;—that is what I must come to if this plan don't answer."
"Anything will be better than that," said Sir Thomas.
Then Ralph dashed at the suggestion of marriage without further delay. "You have heard of Mr. Neefit, the breeches-maker!" It so happened that Sir Thomas never had heard of Mr. Neefit. "Well;—he is a tradesman in Conduit Street. He has a daughter, and he will give her twenty thousand pounds."
"You don't mean to run away with the breeches-maker's daughter?" ejaculated Sir Thomas.
"Certainly not. I shouldn't get the twenty thousand pounds if I did." Then he explained it all;—how Neefit had asked him to the house, and offered him the girl; how the girl herself was as pretty and nice as a girl could be; and how he thought,—though as to that he expressed himself with some humility,—that, were he to propose to her, the girl might perhaps take him.
"I dare say she would," said Sir Thomas.
"Well;—now you know it all. In her way, she has been educated. Neefit père is utterly illiterate and ignorant. He is an honest man, as vulgar as he can be,—or rather as unlike you and me, which is what men mean when they talk of vulgarity,—and he makes the best of breeches. Neefit mère is worse than the father,—being cross and ill-conditioned, as far as I can see. Polly is as good as gold; and if I put a house over my head with her money, of course her father and her mother will be made welcome there. Your daughters would not like to meet them, but I think they could put up with Polly. Now you know about all that I can tell you."
Ralph had been so rapid, so energetic, and withal so reasonable, that Sir Thomas, at this period of the interview, was unable to refer to any of his prophecies. What advice was he to give? Should he adjure this young man not to marry the breeches-maker's daughter because of the blood of the Newtons and the expected estate, or were he to do so even on the score of education and general unfitness, he must suggest some other mode or means of living. But how could he advise the future Newton of Newton Priory to marry Polly Neefit? The Newtons had been at Newton Priory for centuries, and the men Newtons had always married ladies, as the women Newtons had always either married gentlemen or remained unmarried. Sir Thomas, too, was of his nature, and by all his convictions, opposed to such matches. "You have hardly realised," said he, "what it would be to have such a father-in-law and such a mother-in-law;—or probably such a wife."