"But what am I to do? Vyner will never give his consent. I am too poor."
"If I may ask without indiscretion—what is your income? What are your prospects?"
"My income is the interest of four thousand pounds; my prospects are vague enough. I have some talent. Painting and literature are open to me; but I should prefer diplomacy."
"You cannot marry on such prospects."
"No, indeed! But what am I to do?"
"I have but one suggestion to make. My brother is chairman to a railway now in course of formation. The secretaryship is worth four hundred a year. If you will accept of it, I think, by exerting myself, I could secure it for you."
"I am much obliged to you," replied Cecil, coldly; "but that is not at all in my way."
"You refuse?" said the astonished captain. "Refuse four hundred a year?"
"Remember I am a gentleman's son," he said, haughtily, "and you will appreciate my refusal."
"Upon my word, I do appreciate it, and at its real value! Here, I offer you what certainly I should never have thought of offering you, had it not been for her sake, a situation which thousands of gentlemen's sons would be delighted to accept, a situation which, with your own small property, will enable you to live in decent comfort, and you refuse it?"