'Rule out the word impossible. But tell me why you believe it is so.'
'First of all, Lorna Bolivick is a young lady of position, she is a child of an old family, and when she marries she will naturally marry into her own class.'
'Naturally; but what of that? Am I not of—of her class?'
'Doubtless. But face facts. You have not a penny beyond your pay;—would it be fair, would it be right of you, to go to such a girl as she, reared as she has been, and offer her only poverty?'
'I will make a position,' he cried enthusiastically. 'I'm not a fool!'
'How? When?' I asked.
'For the moment I don't know how, or when,' he replied, 'but it shall be done.'
'Then think again,' I went on, 'you could not marry her without her parents' consent, and if they know your purposes they would close their doors against you. Fancy Sir Thomas Bolivick allowing his daughter to marry a man with only a subaltern's pay!'
'Number two,' he replied with a laugh; 'go on,'—and I could see that he regarded my words as of no more weight than thistledown.
'Yes, that is number two,' I replied. 'Now to come to number three. Do you think that you, alone, are strong enough to match yourself with your rivals?'