"Well, well; I might have had the sense to know that some young fellow would not fail to secure such a treasure. I was foolish enough to dream that you and my boy might perhaps in time meet and learn to like each other, and then--but all that is at an end now. Well, well."
Ella was gazing sadly out of the window. There was silence for a little while.
"I hope the husband you have chosen will take you to as good a home as this, my dear. Is he rich?"
"No. He has four hundred a-year certain, and----"
"Four hundred a-year!" interrupted Mr. Denison, in a tone of contempt. "Why I allow my scapegrace son as much as that. Tut, tut! you can't marry a man who has but four hundred a-year."
"And I have as much, or nearly as much," continued Ella. "Dear Mr. Denison, we shall do very well."
"Very well! After Heron Dyke!" Mr. Denison gave an emphatic sniff. "My dear, I have taken a great liking to you, as much as if you were my daughter, and I don't care to hear of this. I don't approve of it. Four hundred a-year!"
"Is your son come home from abroad?" inquired Ella, to change the conversation, after a pause of silence.
"Oh yes, he has come home, the graceless dog! Came down to eat his Christmas dinner with me at Nunham Priors. Stayed but a day or two, though."
"Is he so very graceless?"