"Well, he and she are one, aren't they? I should imagine so, from Madam Trif's manner of talking about her lord and master."
"But there was a private letter on the same sheet of paper, which——"
"Which can easily be erased."
"I can't ask it—really I can't," said Jermyn. "I'd rather lose fifty thousand dollars than remind Mrs. Highwood of something that would be embarrassing to think of, in my presence."
"Then ask her by letter, from as far away as you like. It ought to be done at once though, for offers like Blogsham's are too much in air when made only verbally. We must have the sketches. If you won't ask for them I must. My conscience won't let me see a woman like Miss Trewman marry a subaltern with less than two thousand a year. The income of fifty thousand dollars, added to your own salary, will enable you to marry, and support your wife in a manner that she is accustomed to."
Jermyn was in an unpleasant quandary, but he soon got out of it by saying that to ask for the letter would be ungentlemanly of him, so he couldn't do it.
"Then, you stupid fellow," said the Admiral, "I myself shall ask for them—for my own sketch, at least. She already knows that I know the contents of the letter."
"You won't dare remind her of it," exclaimed Jermyn.
"Won't I, though! Indeed I will. I have sufficient excuse. I shall tell her frankly why I want it—that an estimable though obstinate friend of mine is about to marry on an insufficient income, and that I'm so sorry for his wife that I'm going to settle fifty thousand dollars upon her, and that I can't do it unless I regain the sketch which was on the blank half of that letter sheet; your sketch, you'll remember, was on the back of the written portion. Then, if she gives me the entire letter——"