“I didn’t keep copies of the letters—Oh, I see. Hers you mean! Hang it, old man, I—er—don’t think that would be quite fair to her.”
“Just as you please,” was the perfectly unruffled rejoinder. “By the way, you didn’t perform the pleasing ceremony commonly known as ‘speaking to papa,’ did you?”
“Not I,” said Philip, with alacrity.
“Yet he came here prepared to give you his blessing—and gave it, too, in the most all-embracing fashion?”
“That’s it! That’s just it!” cried Philip, savagely. “It’s a put-up job! Yet what on earth could they want to hook me for? The dear old governor has got years and years to go on yet; and even then he won’t cut up for much, for he’s as poor as Job. Still it looks like a clear case of ‘standing in.’”
“I think it does. As for the motive, the British merchant may have had a fancy to be able to talk about ‘My daughter, Lady Orlebar—ah!’ and added to that you’re a personable dog enough, Phil. He ought to be able to supply the funds to counterbalance the title.”
“There the motive breaks down,” quickly interrupted the other. “Although he cuts great splashes with his entertainments, and is rolling in money, he has the reputation of being the most close-fisted screw extant.”
“Is that so? Ah! now I begin to see a little light. You don’t think he’d come down with a fat settlement?”
“Not the ghost of a chance of it.”
“Good. I think we may defeat him on that count. But let us again be certain on this head. You are sure you wouldn’t take the girl at any price—not if he offers to settle fifty thousand?”