“I don’t choose.”
“What?”
“I reject most absolutely your proposal, thank you. I’ve been a fool and worse, but I’m not quite the cad that comes to. I’d sooner see her marry that young Chichester!”
Sir Algernon’s face wore no very amiable expression. “Is that your final answer?” he said.
“It is.”
“You don’t mean to help me marry Sydney?”
“No, and what’s more, I don’t intend to have you in the Castle any longer. You’re not fit to associate with a girl like that. The Chichesters have brought her up the right way, anyhow, and I don’t intend to have you with her any longer. You must go—and—how much do you ask for destroying Duncombe’s letter, for good and all? I won’t have the child blackmailed when I’m gone. You must destroy the letter in my sight this time. How much payment do you want to do what any decent chap would have done long ago?”
An ugly look was on the handsome face before him. “You’ll have to pay this time, my boy,” Sir Algernon said slowly; “well, rather heavily.”
“How much?”