"Does the rector know?" pursued Sidney.
Philip paused a little.
"I cannot say yes for certain," he answered, "for the rector seems to live in another world from ours; but I never doubted it till he refused to let Phyllis come here with us. And I never meant to conceal it from my mother and you; it seemed such a settled matter, and you were both so fond of Phyllis. I cannot understand how or why this moment is so painful to me. I thought I could ask you for Phyllis as I have asked you for everything else I wanted all my life long."
"Did I ever refuse you anything that was for your good?" asked Sidney, his voice, which was always pleasant and persuasive, falling into softer tones.
"Never, father, never!" he answered eagerly.
"But I must refuse you this. Listen!" he said, as Philip was about to interrupt him. "Such an idea never entered your mother's mind or mine. The children at the Rectory were brought up with you as if you were one family. I had utter confidence in the rector and his wife. If I had seen anything to make me suspect an attachment between you and Phyllis, I should have separated you at once. Brought up for one another! I see it clearly at last. The plot has been artfully contrived, and cleverly carried out. You are the dupe of a cunning and worldly woman. I cast no blame upon Phyllis herself. But, my boy, Phyllis is born to be the wife of a rich man; she would make a bad wife for a poor one. Think for yourself if you could ask Phyllis to share poverty with you."
"But I shall not be a poor man!" exclaimed Philip. All day long circumstances had impressed upon him the fact that the career of a very rich man lay before him, and he was almost shocked by his father's words.
"You are a poor man until I die," said Sidney, rising and stretching himself to his full height. His tall and muscular frame was as vigorous and powerful as Philip's own, and his life at fifty was probably as good as his son's at one-and-twenty. "How soon would you wish me to die, Philip?" he asked in a mournful tone.
"Oh, father!" he cried; "how can you say such words? I could not bear the thought of you dying."
"But till then you are dependent upon me," continued Sidney, "and you cannot ask me to give you the means of bringing trouble on your mother and myself. I shall probably live another twenty-five or thirty years. Consider how Phyllis would like the life you could offer her. I do not say I would let you come to want; but if I allowed you no more than £800 or £1000 a year, would that satisfy her?"