“She needs no help from you, she is quite capable of looking after herself, especially in the water, I can tell you,” Philip answered, sharply.
Nothing more was said till they reached the house, when, on entering the lighted study, Philip noticed that his cousin’s face was flushed, and his hands shaking like aspen leaves.
“Why, what is the matter with you, man?” he asked.
“Nothing—nothing. I am only rather cold. Give me some brandy.”
“Cold on such a night as this? That’s curious,” said Philip, as he got the spirit from a cupboard.
George drank about a wine-glassful neat, and seemed to recover himself.
“I accept your offer for the land, Philip,” he said, presently.
His cousin looked at him curiously, and a brilliant idea struck him.
“You agree, then, to take fifty thousand pounds for the Isleworth estates in the event of your marrying my daughter, the sale to be completed before the marriage takes place?”
“Fifty thousand! No, a hundred thousand—you said a hundred thousand just now.”