"It doesn't seem necessary. Her daughter."
"Well—!" said Sir Francis slowly. "You have given me one reason more, my dear boy, and that a supreme one, for hastening your departure. Take my advice—you will never regret it—and go to-morrow."
"No," Reggie said, and then both were silent.
When the elder again began, he had changed his easy, almost indifferent tone for one firmer and less indulgent.
"What you propose is impossible," he said.
"I don't see it."
"Have you thought what you would be marrying? The grocer's shop, the debts, the helpless mother, the disreputable private soldier of a brother (he enlisted, I am told, to save himself from prison, as the father killed himself for the same purpose). A charming family with which to ally yourself, truly!"
"I don't intend to marry the family. I should allow the mother—not a bad sort at all. I'm fond of her—a hundred a year, to shut the shop up. I should—"
"Nonsense! The idea is ridiculous; monstrous. Get married if you must, but take a girl of your own position in life. Easy enough to find—"
"I don't care a hang about position!"