“Has your father spoken to you about an interview he had with me this morning?” said Conolly, good-naturedly helping him out.
“Yes. That, in fact, is one of the causes of my visit.”
“What does he say?”
“I believe he adheres to the opinion he expressed to you. But I fear he may not have exhibited that self-control in speaking to you which I fully admit you have as much right to expect as anyone else.”
“It does not matter. I can quite understand his feeling.”
“It does matter—pardon me. We should be sorry to appear wanting in consideration for you.”
“That is a trifle. Let us keep the question straight before us. We need make no show of consideration for one another. I have shown none toward your family.”
“But I assure you our only desire is to arrange everything in a friendly spirit.”
“No doubt. But when I am bent on doing a certain thing which you are equally bent on preventing, no very friendly spirit is possible except one of us surrender unconditionally.”
“Hear me a moment, Mr. Conolly. I have no doubt I shall be able to convince you that this romantic project of my sister’s is out of the question. Your ambition—if I may say so without offence—very naturally leads you to think otherwise; but the prompting of self-interest is not our safest guide in this life.”