"They have been telling you a fine tale, I suppose, about my cruelty in not allowing my daughter to marry a man who has not a sixpence to call his own;" and as he spoke cousin Sarah could detect the old boyish temper, and the will that would brook no opposition. "I thought the girl had more sense," he went on; "why, she has refused offers that were unexceptionable, all because of that boy,—you have seen him, Sarah."
"I do not consider Mr. Henry Halford a boy, Edward," she replied, for now the ice was broken the impetuous tone did not daunt her. "He told me on Wednesday that he was going up for ordination on Trinity Sunday, the rector of Kilburn having given him what he called a title to orders."
"Yes, yes, I daresay; however, that is of little importance to me, but what has been told you, Sarah, about this matter?"
"Mary has told me nothing, Edward; Mrs. Armstrong certainly described the splendid offers her daughter had refused, and acknowledged that her refusals were no doubt caused by her attachment to Henry Halford;" and cousin Sarah spoke in that calm, quiet manner which so often carries weight with it.
"Absurd nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Armstrong; "I thought my daughter was above such lovesick foolery, to refuse a man with 12,000l. a year, and the nephew of a duke, for a penniless schoolmaster, descended from nobody knows who."
"Have you no anxiety for your daughter's future happiness, Edward?"
"Happiness! There's no happiness in the world without money."
"Oh, Edward, how you are changed! money was not the source of your dear father's happiness, you never learnt that opinion from him; besides, your own wife was without fortune."
"Ah yes, I had the money, and I chose Maria St. Clair for that sweet character which has never changed; besides, she was well born and well connected, which the Halfords are not."
"Who gave you that information, Edward?"