"But your Dulcinea?" asked Grexon, dropping his eye-glass in amazement.
"She has me and poverty," said Paul, turning away. Nor could the quiet call of Hay make him stop. But at the end of the street he looked back, and saw Grexon entering the office of the lawyer. If Hay was the man Hurd said he was, Paul guessed that he would inquire about the heiress and marry her too, if her banking account was large and safe.
CHAPTER XII
THE NEW LIFE
For obvious reasons Beecot did not return to Gwynne Street. It was difficult to swallow this bitter pill which Providence had administered. In place of an assured future with Sylvia, he found himself confronted with his former poverty, with no chance of marrying the girl, and with the obligation of telling her that she had no right to any name. Paul was by no means a coward, and his first impulse was to go at once and inform Sylvia of her reverse of fortune. But it was already late, and he thought it would be only kind to withhold the bad news till the morrow, and thus avoid giving the disinherited girl a tearful and wakeful night. Therefore, after walking the Embankment till late, Paul went to his garret.
To the young man's credit it must be said that he cared very little for the loss of the money, although he grieved on Sylvia's account. Had he been able to earn a small income, he would have married the girl and given her the protection of his name without the smallest hesitation. But he was yet unknown to fame; he was at variance with his father, and he could scarcely bring Sylvia to share his bitter poverty—which might grow still more bitter in that cold and cheerless garret.
Then there was another thing to consider. Paul had written to his father explaining the circumstances of his engagement to Sylvia, and asking for the paternal blessing. To gain this, he mentioned that his promised wife had five thousand a year. Bully and tyrant as Beecot senior was, he loved money, and although well off, was always on the alert to have more brought into the family. With the bribe of a wealthy wife, Paul had little doubt but what the breach would be healed, and Sylvia welcomed as the sweetest and most desirable daughter-in-law in the world. Then Paul fancied the girl would be able to subdue with her gentle ways the stubborn heart of his father, and would also be able to make Mrs. Beecot happy. Indeed, he had received a letter from his mother congratulating him on his wealthy match, for the good lady wished to see Paul independent of the domestic tyrant. Also Mrs. Beecot had made many inquiries about Sylvia's goodness and beauty, and hoped that he had chosen wisely, and hinted that no girl living was worthy of her son, after the fashion of mothers. Paul had replied to this letter setting forth his own unworthiness and Sylvia's perfections, and Mrs. Beecot had accepted the good news with joy. But the letter written to Beecot senior was yet unanswered, and Paul began to think that not even the chance of having a rich daughter-in-law would prevail against the obstinacy of the old gentleman.