Sir Harry was the first to speak.
"Martin, I am an old man, who will soon be forced to dye his hair, and really my constitution is not equal to these shocks. What on earth makes you think you want to marry Joanna Godden?"
"I love her."
"A most desperate situation. But surely marriage is rather a drastic remedy."
"Well, don't let's talk about it any longer. I'm going to dress—Saville will be here in a quarter of an hour."
"But I must talk about it. Hang it all, I'm your father—I'm the father of both of you, though you don't like it a bit and would rather forget it. Martin, you mustn't marry Joanna Godden however much you love her. It would be a silly mistake—she's not your equal, and she's not your type. Have you asked her?"
"Practically."
"Oh that's all right, then. It doesn't matter asking a woman practically as long as you don't ask her literally."
"Father, please don't talk about it."
"I will talk about it. Lawrence, do you know what this idiot's letting himself in for? Have you seen Joanna Godden? Why, she'd never do for him? She's a big, bouncing female, and her stays creak."