Fielding laughed. "Saltash isn't the only fish in the sea," he remarked.
"You are thinking of—Mr. Green?" she questioned, with slight hesitation before the name. "You know, Edward—" she broke off.
"Well, my dear?" he said.
She turned to him impulsively. "I'm sorry I've not been nicer about that young man. I'm going to try and like him better, just to please you. But, Edward, you wouldn't want Juliet to marry—that sort of man? You don't, do you?"
Fielding had stiffened almost imperceptibly. "It doesn't much matter what I want," he said, after a moment. "It doesn't rest with me. Neither Dick nor Juliet are likely to consult my feelings in the matter."
"I don't want her to throw herself away—like that," said Vera.
"I don't think you need be afraid," he said. "Juliet knows very well what she is about. And Dick—well Dick's fool enough to sacrifice the heart out of his body for the sake of that half-witted boy."
"How odd of him!" Vera said. "What a pity Robin ever lived to grow up!"
"He's been the ruin of Dick's life," the squire said forcibly. "He's thrown away every chance he ever had on account of Robin. He doesn't fit—if you like. He's absolutely out of his sphere and knows it. But he'll never change it while that boy lives. That's the infernal part of it. Nothing will move him." He stopped himself suddenly. "I mustn't excite you, my dear, and this is a subject upon which I feel very strongly. I can't expect you to sympathize because—" he smiled whimsically—"well, mainly because you don't understand. We had better talk of something else."
Vera was looking at him with a slight frown between her eyes. "I didn't mean to be—unsympathetic," she said, a faint quiver in her voice.