“No, sir, you’ll do nothing of the sort,” said the Judge, appalled at this evidence of collusion between the parties. “You’ll go away from here for some years before you get her; and then——”
“And then?” said Arthur, eagerly.
The Judge looked at him curiously over his round spectacles. “What do you propose to live upon?”
“I am coming to that,” said Arthur. “I have fifteen hundred a year——”
“Two thousand,” said the Judge, absently.
“Two thousand?” said Arthur, “I did not think it was so much.” And he began rapidly to calculate how much farther the extra five hundred would carry them.
“Well,” said the Judge, “you don’t propose to marry my daughter and live in Boston on two thousand a year, do you?” But, secretly, it seemed to him the proper thing to do.
“No, sir,” said Arthur; (“Oh,” interpolated the Judge, rather disappointed.) “I—I have decided to go to New York and enter a banking-house. And, in that, sir, I want to ask your help—and your advice.”
The Judge was silent a minute. “In order that you may use the one and decline the other, I suppose, with thanks. Well;—and granting this point (for the sake of argument)—What next?”
“Then,” said Arthur, “I shall try to make some money; and then, if I succeed—will you give your consent to our engagem—to our marriage?”