“What I wanted to tell you is that I have an income of five thousand a year,” said Mrs. Fitzherbert.
“I cannot bear these gross and sordid details,” he answered, with a wave of the hand. “Of course it shall be settled absolutely upon you. What more is there to be said?”
“Only that it ceases on the day I marry again.”
Canon Spratte started and for a moment his face fell.
“All of it?” he asked.
“Every penny. My husband was a very generous man, but he had apparently no desire to provide for the wants of his successor. On my second marriage everything I have, the very furniture of this house, goes to a distant cousin of his.”
She watched the Canon for the effect of this blow, and she could not deny that he took it admirably.
“I’m very glad,” he said. “I much prefer to provide for your wants myself. I shouldn’t like to think you were living on another man’s income.”
“Do you realize that I shall be so penniless, you will even have to provide the clothes for my back and my very fare when I take the tube?”
“It will only make you more precious to me.”