“’Twill add a perfume to the orange blossoms,” cried Mrs. Jericho with a gush of sentiment. “’Twill, if possible, add a solemnity to the ceremony. But I mean what dowry do you give?”
“Dowry! I thought, my dear, you observed that marriage was no bargain? Why, you’re making it quite a ready money transaction.”
“Now, my dear Jericho, I admire your wit. It is brilliant, delightful—and I assure you, I am as proud of all your brilliant sayings, quite as proud as if they were my own. But this is”—
Here the servant entered with the card of “The Hon. Mr. Candituft.”
“Show him in,” said Jericho with an instant decision.
“My dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Jericho, hurrying to depart, “I leave Monica in your hands. I know your noble heart; I’m sure you will treat her like a gentleman and—and a father.” With this confiding speech Mrs. Jericho hastened from the room. Meeting Candituft at the door, she took his hand with the greatest cordiality, and with the prettiest ignorance of the purpose of his visit.
“’Pon my life, my dear sir,” said Candituft, “I never saw such luck as you had last night.”
“Why, yes,” said Jericho, swelling into figure, “I think the blind goddess smirked a little on me.”
“With such luck, had you set in for play, why, sir, before you rose you might have been owner of Zebra Park. Not but what upon principle I detest gambling. It is a vice destitute of the finer emotions that ought ever to exist among the family of man. Nevertheless, if a simpleton like Lord Bezant will be ruined, I do think he ought to fall to the lot of a gentleman and a wise man,” and Candituft bowed to Jericho. “It is devilish annoying to see a fool flung away upon a mere vulgar brute of luck. It jars one’s sense of propriety. No, at least, gentlemen ought to ruin gentlemen.”
“A beautiful motto, Candituft. Have it written up at the Club,” said Jericho.