"Well, I'll tell some other time. It's a sore subject, old fellow. Another time, my boy. I'll only mention now that it's the cause of my present absence from England. There's a bother that I don't care to encounter, and Sir Gilbert Biggs's nieces are at the bottom of it."
"You don't mean this one, I hope?" cried Dacres, in some alarm.
"Heaven forbid! By Jove! No. I hope not."
"No, I hope not, by Jove!" echoed the other.
"Well, old man," said Hawbury, after a fit of silence, "I suppose you'll push matters on now, hard and fast, and launch yourself into matrimony?"
"Well—I—suppose—so," said Dacres, hesitatingly.
"You suppose so. Of course you will. Don't I know you, old chap? Impetuous, tenacious of purpose, iron will, one idea, and all that sort of thing. Of course you will; and you'll be married in a month."
"Well," said Dacres, in the same hesitating way, "not so soon as that, I'm afraid."
"Why not?"
"Why, I have to get the lady first."