"So there's no loop-hole in that direction," said his companion. "If Finchie were at home, I bet you anything you like, she'd clear a path somehow. Shove you and your queer wedding into limbo, and marry Nancy and her money, to her nephew, Tony Lamerton!"
"Yes, perhaps she'd have a good try, but she couldn't bring it off all the same."
"You're coming to see me turned off on Wednesday week, eh,—you really must support me, and Nancy is to be one of the bridesmaids."
"Is she? well don't put me down for best man,—I'm not eligible, but I'll afford you my presence, and moral support. Is it to be a big affair?"
"I'm afraid so! lots of Mrs. Hicks' old friends, every planter in London, and most of our fellow passengers; we've had some thumping presents. Nancy has given us a car, a piano, and a fine canteen. She takes the deepest interest in our affairs, and is with Jessie to-day. We are sending some new furniture out to Fairplains."
"Well, I must confess, I rather liked the old sticks. There was one lame chair in the verandah, the most comfortable I ever sat in,—just took you nicely in the back, and didn't poke your head into your chest."
"It shall be preserved, and kept ready for you whenever you come for a shoot."
"I'll never shoot again at Fairplains,—or set foot on Nancy's estate."
"What a stiff-necked beggar you are! and yet I think it is quite on the cards,—that you may never return to India."
"Yes, I see your meaning, why swither out there, when I have a rich wife in England? As it happens, I bar a rich wife, and never intend to claim her."