Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat, leaned forward to rap the ashes out of his pipe on the firedog, and then looked at his friend seriously.
"I won't be roughed, Jerry," he said. "You know perfectly well I'm dead in earnest about her, and I'll thank you to let up."
"All right, Jack; I beg your pardon; but I would like to ask one thing. It's not exactly my business, of course, but really it's something I'd like to know in connection with this scheme."
"Fire away," Castleport said rather grimly.
"Well, then, what I want to know is why the President's so set against your marrying Katrine Marchfield?"
"It isn't time to talk of marrying," Jack returned somewhat stiffly. "She may have something to say to that."
"Of course, old fellow; but you know what I mean. What's his objection to your trying?"
"I don't see how that affects the cruise, exactly, but I don't mind telling you; only of course I shouldn't want it talked about. It's so unreasonable, and honestly I should hate to seem to be giving Uncle Randolph any sort of a black eye."
"I shouldn't repeat it, Jack; but you needn't say anything if you'd rather not."
"It's only that it looks as if Uncle Randolph was infernally obstinate and cranky, and he really isn't. He hadn't any reason to give me, that amounted to anything. He talked about Katrine's not having any money; but of course that's all poppy-cock. I've got a good bit myself when I come into it, and he's always told me I should have all his. Of course Katrine hasn't much, though she'll have something, I suppose, from her aunt."