“I shall not say them to Dora, I promise you,” he said, “because, in case they had not occurred to her, she might see the truth of them, and it might put her off. That would damage my chances of living on him. It would be very foolish of me. Besides, I have no quarrel with Dora—I like Dora. But my saying these things to her is superfluous, I am afraid. She sees them all perfectly, though to you they apparently seem ridiculous. Or am I wrong, mother, and do you only pretend to think them ridiculous?”
Lady Austell felt she could fight a little on this ground.
“They seem to me quite ridiculous in so far as they apply to Dora,” she said. “She is deeply in love with him, dear child, and do you suppose that she stops to consider whether he says ‘tasteful’ or not?”
Jim smiled with faint malice.
“No, she does not stop to consider whether he says it or not,” he replied, “because it is perfectly clear that he does. But when he does, she pauses. Not for long, but just for a second. She doesn’t exactly wince, not a whole wince, at least, but just a little bit of one. You can’t help it if you are not accustomed to it. If I was going to marry Mrs. Osborne, I should wince a little now and then. I don’t in the least wonder that she’s in love with him. I wish you would find me a girl, who would marry me, as handsome and rich as Claude. The only thing is——”
Jim finished breakfast, and was going slowly round the room looking at the furniture. He paused in front of a saddlebagged divan with his head on one side.
“The only thing is that though she may get accustomed to ‘tasteful,’ she may also get accustomed to his extraordinary good looks. Of course, then there’s the money to fall back upon. I don’t think I should ever get accustomed to so much. What is—is Uncle Alfred going to allow him on his marriage?”
“Fifteen thousand a year, I believe,” said Lady Austell gently, as if mentioning some departed friend.
Jim gave a little sigh in the same style. He had a dreadfully inconvenient memory, and remembered that the original sum suggested was twelve thousand, which his mother had thought decent but not creditable. There was no doubt, so he framed the transaction to himself, that she had “screwed this up” to fifteen. So he sighed appreciatively, and his comment that followed was of the nature of a testimonial.
“When I marry I shall leave the question of settlements completely in your hands, if you will allow me,” he said. “I think you are too clever for anybody.”