Her father laughed. “Perhaps, on the other hand, that’s a little bit high-flown,” he said. “A British merchant—as you say—is no better and no worse than other people. But even your high-falutin—and even your little sniffs and scorns—are a luxury to me. Not in a man, though—that sort of thing won’t do in a man. A man must stick to his business, make the most of it, earn money enough to indulge his wife and his daughters to the top of their bent, to have them as fine as they can be made, little savantes, critics of everything, as grand in their way as princesses. The women like you, my dear; and the men, stiff old remorseless business fellows like myself, letting nothing stand between us and a good profit.”
“Papa, nothing but honour and justice, and even mercy.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Well, I don’t say by fair means or foul, as some do; but as for mercy, that’s not a business-like quality, my dear.”
“Oh, don’t say so, papa. I am sure you would always be kind. Gervase says that the methods are what he cannot bear—that he always thought, as I did, everything was high-minded and honourable, but—I suppose he must have found out things: and then he says that, on the other side, profit, mere profit, is the god. He means in America, of course—and to make money the only end; not in your way, but by fair means—or foul, which you said some people—— It might have been different with Gervase if he had known only your methods, papa.”
This Madeline said, partly out of a true and genuine faith in her father, which indeed was beyond question; but partly also to propitiate him, to make him believe that in his dealings her lover would have found nothing but honour.
“Well,” he said, “there’s truth in that. I don’t know all the outs and ins of Burton’s business. There may be things in it which a fanciful young man—— I’ve pointed out to you before, Maddie, that Gervase was a very fanciful young man, with no end of whims in his head.”
“Whatever he is, papa,” said Madeline, with a blush, yet a proud erection of the head, “it is certain that he is the only man in the world for me.”
“Well, well,” said Mr Thursley, “well, well. I had nothing to say against it before, and I don’t know that I have anything now. But he must change his mind, you know. He’s done it frequently before. He must just have to do it again. My daughter is not going to marry a man with five hundred a-year.”
To this Madeline made absolutely no reply.
“You understand,” said Mr Thursley, getting up, “that about that there’s nothing to be said. You don’t leave this house but for a house as good. You don’t go from having everything your own way here, to pinching and scraping and counting your pence in another man’s house. Come, Maddie, you are a girl of sense, and you must talk sense to him. What would the pair of you luxurious highly bred young people, wanting everything of the best, what could you do on five hundred a-year?”