"Your cousin died and left you The Grange at Bowderstyke, in Yorkshire. You gave up your profession so as to get the estates in order: they had been sadly neglected by your cousin, who was a drunkard."
"That is impolite, but true," said Towton with a grimace. "Go on."
"You wish to marry."
The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. "Every man wishes to marry."
"You wish to marry a girl called Ida Dimsdale," went on the passionless voice, and Diabella refrained from making any comment on the remark.
"Ah! Now you are becoming interesting. Why do I wish to marry Ida Dimsdale?" The reply was unexpected. "You desire to get her money in order to recover certain lands sold by your late cousin."
"That is a lie." Towton grew a trifle red and spoke sharply. "I love Miss Dimsdale, and would take her without a penny."
"That is how you will have to take her," replied Diabella coldly and without insisting upon the truth of her previous statement.
"Nonsense! Miss Dimsdale has a large fortune."
"You think she has ten thousand a year. She has nothing."