Son had got just as fed up there, though. It seemed such a silly arrangement for grown men of five-and-twenty.
Father was pained at This.
“Fact is,” said the Green Chartreuse, who was a veritable Swaggering Companion this morning, “a chap is bound to get fed up unless he can find a real nice girl to take him on, and give him an interest in things. And I reckon I’ve found her, although I haven’t persuaded her yet; but, father, if you’ll be so kind as to go and talk to her grandmother, a real good sort who has played Bean with Lady Macbeth, and put in a word for me, I’m sure it would straighten things out a bit.”
Father was constrained to remark at this point that he was afraid the Eldest Son of the House was hopeless. It was truly unfortunate that he could not be brought to realize the gravity of the issue.
Mr. Philip seemed willing to concede that from one point of view it would be quite right to marry Adela. But suppose you were not built in that way?
Father, however, found not the least difficulty in making a rejoinder. “Marry Adela, my dear boy, whatever way you are built in, and you will never regret it. You will have done your duty in a manner becoming to the sphere to which it has pleased Providence to call you. Your mother will be pleased; I propose to double your present income; Warlock is prepared to be generous in regard to Adela’s settlement; I am sure High Cliff will view the arrangement favorably; the little house in Grosvenor Street can be had on a short lease on reasonable terms; Mr. Vandeleur is inclined to think it would do no harm to the Party; most agreeable, accomplished, and charming girl; what could any young fellow—but why labor the point?”
Son rather agreed that it might be taken as read.
Still the fact remained that if you are not built in that way you are bound to be up against it.
The Proconsul had no pity for such weakness of fiber, such general infirmity of character.
“Do you suppose, my dear boy, that when I married your dear mother I had no qualms?”