"You are fond of luxury?"
"Yes, madam."
"Horses, wines, carriages?"
"Excuse me—no."
"What then?"
"The luxury of seeing my orphan sister surrounded with every comfort."
A flush passed over Philippa's face, and she turned away; but she was not satisfied.
"There is a very plain and easy way to arrive at wealth, sir," she said; "law is so slow."
"Please indicate it."
"Marry an heiress."