“The Edge. Hathercourt Edge—my farm, I mean,” explained Arthur, still with a sort of hesitation in his manner.
Mr Cheviott turned upon him with more asperity than he had yet shown.
“Really, Arthur, you are too foolish,” he exclaimed. “Do you mean to say that you could live at the Edge on about fifty pounds a year—certainly not more—for the interest of the money that was raised to pay your debts three years ago would fully take the rest of the two or three hundred a year that is the most you could make out of the farm, even if you managed it far better than you are likely to do. And I have no power to clear you from these debts out of what should be, what surely will be, your own before very long?” He looked at Arthur anxiously as he spoke.
“If it’s ever becoming mine depends upon the marriage that my father set his heart on taking place, it never will be mine—”
“But—” began Mr Cheviott.
“Yes, yes, I know what you are going to say. I may change, you think, as I have changed before, but I never shall, Laurence. I never was really in earnest before—my flirtations, even you must allow, were very harmless; this is very different, and I cannot give it up. And—and even if I have to go away for two years—till Alys is of age—and take my chance of her remembering me, I could not owe my inheritance to a legal quibble—I could not go through the farce of asking Alys to marry me, even though sure of her refusal, when I was heart and soul devoted to another. And even if she—Miss Western—were married to some other fellow by that time, it would be no better. I could not marry any one else; and even if I could, as far as my feelings went, I could not, in honour, refrain from telling Alys all, and—” he stopped to take breath.
“Well, what then?” said Mr Cheviott.
“Could I insult Alys by asking her to accept me without my caring for her as she should be cared for? As I now know, I never could care for her, for she is just like the dearest of sisters to me, but only that.”
Mr Cheviott smiled.
“Why in the world did you not see all this two years ago, when you persuaded me into agreeing to your selling out and setting you straight again? Do you not remember how confident you were about never wanting to marry any one else?”