Marsham's hand groped for his. Sir James pressed it, and walked away again, his eyes on the carpet. When he came back, he said, shortly:
"You know your mother will resist it to the last?"
By this, Marsham had collected his forces, and as he turned to the lamplight, Sir James saw a countenance that reassured him.
"I have no hope of persuading her. It will have to be faced."
"No, I fear there is no hope. She sees all such things in a false light. Forgive me--we must both speak plainly. She will shudder at the bare idea of Juliet Sparling's daughter as your wife; she will think it means a serious injury to your career--in reality it does nothing of the sort--and she will regard it as her duty to assert herself."
"You and Ferrier must do all you can for me," said Marsham, slowly.
"We shall do everything we can, but I do not flatter myself it will be of the smallest use. And supposing we make no impression--what then?"
Marsham paused a moment; then looked up.
"You know the terms of my father's will? I am absolutely dependent on my mother. The allowance she makes me at present is quite inadequate for a man in Parliament, and she could stop it to-morrow."
"You might have to give up Parliament?"