“Well now, to retain our interest,” said Egremont, “quick payment of our expenses is the most efficient way, believe me.”
“You have got six years, perhaps seven,” said Lord Marney, “and long before that I hope to find you the husband of Lady Joan Fitz-Warene.”
“I do not wish to connect the two contingencies,” said Egremont firmly.
“They are inseparable,” said Lord Marney.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I think this pedantic acquittance of an electioneering account is in the highest degree ridiculous, and that I cannot interfere in it. The legal expenses are you say paid; and if they were not, I should feel myself bound, as the head of the family, to defray them, but I can go no further. I cannot bring myself to sanction an expenditure for certainly very unnecessary, perhaps, and I much fear it, for illegal and very immoral purposes.”
“That really is your determination?”
“After the most mature reflection, prompted by a sincere solicitude for your benefit.”
“Well, George, I have often suspected it, but now I feel quite persuaded, that you are really the greatest humbug that ever existed.”
“Abuse is not argument, Mr Egremont.”