'Terrible to think—not to be thought of at all! Why, the estate has been the home of the Wilmots for four hundred years!'
'We can never recover what has been lost.'
'Unless you make a wealthy marriage, Jerry dear—such as you have every right to look forward to.'
Jerry shrugged his shoulders, and pulled dreamily at his cigar after flicking the white ash off it.
'Let the mortgaged land go!' he exclaimed. 'I do not mean to dedicate my life by clearing that for others, which others did not clear for me.'
'Jerry!'
'Remember, mater dear, I have had only a little, and not all, to do in bringing matters to this pass with Wilmothurst, and I decline to act the part of a family martyr.'
'What will society say?'
'Society be hanged! I have read in a book, and I know it to be truth, that "Society at its best will entertain you if you amuse it, and will drop you, as a rule, upon the first suspicion of your wanting a twenty-pound note. Society saps your energy, snaps your finances, and half-a-dozen good attorneys are fifty times more valuable acquaintances than half the peerage would be at present."
'Where on earth do you pick up such detestable opinions, Jerry Wilmot?' exclaimed his mother, holding up her white hands in dismay, while she began seriously to consider where a suitable bride with a long purse could be found and urged upon his attention.