"There is not one, my dear. It would be difficult indeed to meet with a man so good, so unselfish, so devoted. But we were speaking of Phœbe. The cases are different, I said. Mr. Cornwall would have had no difficulty in obtaining our consent, had it been you instead of Phœbe. Have you forgotten that Phœbe has a father?"
"I did not think of him," said Fanny, a little depressed by the allusion. "But what objection could he have to Mr. Cornwall?"
"That is not for us to say. Phœbe's father is a peculiar man, and he may have views for Phœbe of which we are ignorant. Mr. Cornwall's suit will rest with him, not with us."
"Mr. Cornwall is a gentleman."
"Undoubtedly; and, so far as I can judge, calculated to make a girl happy. But that is not the question."
"What is the question, mother?"
"Money. Fanny, what I am about to say must not pass out of this room."
"Very well, mother."
"Phœbe's father may say to Mr. Cornwall: 'You ask me for my daughter's hand. How much money have you got?'"
"What a coarse way of putting it!" exclaimed Fanny disdainfully.