"Well, you asked for my opinion, and you are quite at liberty to reject it as per usual," he said carelessly. "But though I am not a rich man, I don't mind betting you fifty to one—in farthings—that if you declare your purpose of marrying this young lady to the earl, that before many years are over you will come to me and wish to Heaven you had taken my advice."
Blair bit at his cigar and fidgeted in the chair he had thrown himself into.
"I hate the idea of secrecy, Austin," he said at last; "and yet—but there! ten to one Margaret would refuse a clandestine marriage."
Austin Ambrose did not sneer, but he lowered his lids till they covered the cold gray eyes.
"Yes? I think not. Not if you told her all that you would lose by an open declaration. Women—forgive me, my dear fellow, but I know a little about them, though you think I don't—women have a better idea of the value of money than we men have. I think Miss Hale will consent to a quiet wedding when she knows that by so doing she will save several score of thousands to her husband, and to her future children."
There was silence for a moment, then Blair spoke. His fate and Margaret's, and more than theirs, had hung in the balance while he had hesitated.
"I think you're right, Austin," he said. "You always are, I know, and though I hate doing it, I'll take your advice. It—it will be only for a short time."
"Yes, the earl is quite an old man——"
"I didn't mean that," said Blair, quickly, "I don't want him to die, Heaven knows! I am not at all anxious to be the Earl of Ferrers. I shouldn't make half as fine an earl as he does."
"Just so," said Austin Ambrose. "But I am glad you intend to take my advice."