"Yes. There is a good deal to consider; but it is for Reggie and the girl to consider—not for me."
"But surely you, too, Francis!"
"Well, then, I have considered."
"It is not Reggie alone—but all of us. You must think for all of us,
Francis. You always have done. It is not a connection to desire."
"I agree with you. The last in the world to desire. But it concerns the pair of them, primarily. He is—he no doubt believes he is—in love with her; and she is, I suppose, in love with him. No one has the right to interfere."
"Think how differently you married, Francis! A rich girl of high family."
"I did not marry for that. It happened—that was all. I married Marion for the same reason that impels Reggie to marry this girl. I remember how little such things weighed with me in my marriage; how, once having felt the inclination to marry her, I should have married my wife all the same if she had been, say, the daughter of William Day. It is because I remember that I decline any longer to interfere, or to take upon my shoulders any responsibility in this matter."
"You are wrong, Francis. Reggie won't thank you for it, later on."
"Oh, do I want any one to thank me!" Sir Francis said with sudden, all unusual petulance, turning round on his astonished sister, who jumped in her chair at his tone, instantly repentant. To incur the anger of the head of her house was the thing of which she was most on earth afraid.
"Do what you think right, of course, Francis."