The old man looked at his son with a sneer on his face, which was called forth by the thought that any one, least of all his bitter personal enemy, should aspire to hold any relations with this paragon of wealth.
"I do not think that Sara Medway or her father covets your wealth," added Edward, in a very mildly deprecatory tone.
"You are nothing but a boy! you don't know the world. You have been at your books till you are twenty-one years old, and now you are as innocent of all knowledge of the ways of men as a child in its cradle."
"But, father, I know that Sara Medway is not an adventurer," added Edward, who was more anxious to defend the lady implicated than himself.
"You don't know anything about it," raved the old gentleman, angered anew by the protest of the son.
"She is as gentle as she is beautiful; and I am sure she is not capable of thinking a mercenary thought."
"Stuff! You talk like a baby, that knows nothing of the world—that's all."
"But you don't know her," suggested Edward, who was actually so simple as to believe that this consideration ought to have some influence upon the sentence of his father.
"I know her father, and that's enough. The chances are, that she is like him. But, whether she is like him or not, there can be no relations between his family and mine. Do you understand me, Edward?" demanded the Honorable Mr. Montague, sternly.