"Why do you choose to live under a cloud, Mr. Parker?" I asked.
"My dear fellow," he replied earnestly, "I don't altogether choose. I have been frank with you. It's my life."
"If it were only a question of money——" I began tentatively.
"A question of money!" Mr. Parker interrupted. "Isn't everything a question of money? Say, what do you mean exactly?"
"I mean that I admire your daughter, sir—I admire her immensely," I told him. "If she'd have me I'd marry her to-morrow, I am not what you would call a wealthy man, but I have enough money for all reasonable purposes."
Mr. Parker was clearly staggered. He stroked his waistcoat for a moment in an absent sort of way.
"This takes my breath away!" he exclaimed. "Let us understand exactly what it means."
"It means," I told him bluntly, "that I'll make a settlement upon your daughter and give you enough to live on."
He looked first at me and then at the carpet. He began to whistle softly.
"And they always told me," he murmured under his breath, "that you Britishers were so cautious! Why, you know nothing about us at all except what I've told you, and goodness knows that isn't much of a recommendation! Besides, I may not have told you half!"