“I am well off,” he went on, eagerly, “and I will tell you a secret. I have bought the advowson of this living; I happened to hear that it was going, and got it at a bargain. I don’t think that Halford’s life is worth five years’ purchase.’”
“Why do you want to marry Eva, Mr. Plowden,” asked Florence, ignoring this piece of information; “you are not in love with her?”
“In love! No, Miss Ceswick. I don’t think that sensible men fall in love; they leave that to boys and women.”
“O! Then why do you want to marry Eva? It will be best to tell me frankly, Mr. Plowden.”
He hesitated, and then came to the conclusion that, with a person of Florence’s penetration, frankness was the best game.
“Well, as you must know, your sister is an extraordinarily beautiful woman.”
“And would therefore form a desirable addition to your establishment?”
“Precisely,” said Mr. Plowden. “Also,” he went on, “she is a distinguished-looking woman, and quite the lady.”
Florence shuddered at this phrase.
“And would therefore give you social status, Mr. Plowden?”