“Why?”
“But, Georges, whatever do you mean? How simple you are! You surely don’t intend to marry on your salary as assistant-consul? Twelve hundred florins, is it not? ’Tis true you are entitled to your share of mamma’s legacy, but it is only a trifle, all in all you won’t be very rich. So I ask you, on what are you going to marry then? You cannot depend much on what the Verstraetens will give as a dowry; they live well, but simply; they are not really wealthy.”
“My dear Emilie, if you want to reckon at all, then reckon properly. ’Tis true, on the support of my intended parents-in-law—if they will ever be that,” he whispered smiling, “I—don’t reckon at all; in fact I should not even care about it.”
“For all that, you would not say no, if they were to come forward with anything substantial.”
“I don’t know; that is a factor which I shall put aside for the present, in fact I haven’t even given it a thought; but you were reckoning up just now, and you reckoned rather carelessly. Suppose I don’t pass my examination as vice-consul this year, is my share to the legacy not fifteen hundred florins?”
“About that.”
“Well, twelve hundred plus fifteen hundred makes——”
“Two thousand seven hundred florins! And would you marry on that?”
“Why not?” [[126]]
She clasped her hands in despair.