"I don't recognise your right to ask me questions about my affairs."
"They are mine also, confound you," snapped Vernon energetically. "I love Miss Corsoon, and if you would leave her alone she would probably accept me."
"What good would that do?" asked Maunders lightly; "Her mother wouldn't."
"Would Lady Corsoon accept you? After all, you have nothing but your good looks to offer the girl."
"Ah, but the girl has a fortune to offer me."
"You aren't worth it. And let me remind you that however much Miss Corsoon may be taken up with your looks, her mother will certainly disapprove of the match."
Maunders shrugged his shoulders. "You can't be sure of that."
"I am sure of one thing, that Sir Julius will cut his daughter off with a shilling if she marries you."
"Now that's very clever of you, my dear boy," said Maunders gracefully, "for Sir Julius _is_ the stumbling-block. He's a purse with a gaping mouth, which goes about on two legs, and has no sympathy with romance."
"Romance! Why, you don't know what it means," said Vernon scornfully. "You want to marry money, and either Miss Corsoon or Miss Dimsdale will serve your turn. The last is in possession of her money, whereas the first may not inherit her expected fortune, which will certainly be taken away from her if she marries you. Why not stick to Miss Dimsdale?" Maunders rose and went to the window. "Because I really love Miss Corsoon, much as you may doubt it," he said impetuously. "I have a heart----"