The squire shook his head sadly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Bartley Bradstone, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “I’m not so sure of that. And now, sir, let me imitate your candor. You’ve told me how you stand; I’ll tell you my position. I believe—it’s difficult to calculate exactly—that I’m worth three-quarters of a million, more or less, and I should think——”
The squire raised his brows.
“Yes, that’s about the figure. Now, if Olivia says ‘Yes,’ if she accepts me, I’m prepared to settle fifty thousand pounds upon her for her life, for her own, you know, and I’ll give her The Maples, too. If that isn’t enough, if you think that it ought to be more——”
The squire’s pale face went crimson, and he made a gesture of repudiation.
“No, no! It is most liberal, most generous,” he said, and for the first time his voice quivered. “It is too large a settlement for a portionless girl——”
“Not for my wife,” said Bartley Bradstone, with a charming self consequence which made the poor old squire shudder inwardly. “A man who is worth three-quarters of a million doesn’t miss fifty thou. In fact, I expect that your lawyer fellows will want a great deal more than that——”
The squire reddened.
“My lawyers will express my sentiments, Bradstone,” he said, quietly.
Bartley Bradstone bit his lip.