“We’ve many of the same sort, no doubt,” said Evelyn, thinking it tactful to hold aloof when a son was abusing his mother.
“Yes, but usually they’re gentlemen and do things in a gentlemanly way.”
“Mr. Dowie is rich?”
“Just now he is—they say.” Sidney had the rich man’s weakness for denying, or at least casting doubt upon, the riches of other rich men. He knew that his was the finest and most valuable wealth in the world, and he would have liked to believe that it was the only wealth in the world. “I trust the Duke has looked sharp to the settlements.”
“Why?” asked Evelyn, preparing to make mental notes.
“He may never get anything but what’s settled on him and her now. Dowie is more or less of a speculator and may go broke. But that’s not the only danger in marrying an American heiress. You see, Lady Evelyn, over there they have the vulgarest possible notions of rank and titles. And often, if there isn’t a cash settlement when they ‘buy the title,’ as they describe it, they refuse to give up anything. Many of their rich men have the craze for founding colleges and asylums and libraries. They reason that they’ve got the title in the family, therefore it isn’t necessary to pay for it; and so they leave all their money to build themselves a monument. Dishonourable, isn’t it? But they stop at nothing.”
“Then,” said Evelyn, “an American heiress isn’t an heiress so long as her father is alive?”
“Exactly. It’s misleading to call her an heiress. She simply has hopes.”
“I hope Surrey knows this.”
“If he doesn’t it’s his own fault. I cautioned His Grace before he sailed.”