“She will marry soon, I should think,” said Captain Omar.
Sir Philip said nothing.
“She has no fortune,” he remarked dryly after a minute or two’s silence.
Captain Omar gave a slightly bitter laugh.
“Upon my word I think that fact is not likely to be an obstacle. If—if Madelene had had no fortune you don’t suppose things would have been as they are for me? I wouldn’t have allowed it in that case.”
Sir Philip hesitated.
“It’s not so much her being rich, as her having this place—and all the responsibilities it brings, and the complication of her father and his peculiar position, and—and latterly the addition of Ella and the care of her future.”
“But Ella will marry—that’s to say she’s sure to have opportunities of doing so, if Madelene doesn’t shut her up,” said Captain Omar impatiently. “Now that I have seen Ella, I understand all these new difficulties less and less. Yet, surely,” and he turned to Philip with a sort of anguish in his eyes, “don’t think me a brute, Cheynes, for saying it—you have known the whole story all through—it can’t be that she has left off caring for me, and that she puts it on these pretexts, and—”
“No, no,” Sir Philip interrupted, “don’t get anything of that kind into your head, Omar. I’m perfectly certain that Madelene is as true as steel, and—if things were to disentangle themselves a little, if she was quite happy and satisfied about Ella’s future and saw her way to marrying you without any fear of conflicting duties, I’m sure it would be all right. Don’t lose heart just yet, my good fellow.”
“There’s not much time left for keeping up my heart in,” the other replied. “My leave’s over next month, Cheynes.”