“I see you have no vices.” The Canon became so bland that it was overwhelming. “Now, my dear fellow, let us discuss this matter in the most cordial way. I need not tell you that I have the very highest esteem for you personally, and the sincerest admiration for your talents. But we live in an age when talent is not always rewarded according to its merits, and I am curious to know upon what you propose to live.”
“My income is about a hundred and fifty a year and Winnie has three hundred from her mother.”
“You are very well informed,” smiled the Canon, good-naturedly.
“Winnie told me,” said Bertram, flushing.
“Obviously! I didn’t suppose for a moment that you had examined the will at Somerset House. And do you imagine that Winnie will be content to live on four hundred and fifty pounds a year?”
“It’s three times as much as my mother ever had.”
“Possibly, but your mother—a most excellent person, Mr. Railing—has moved in rather a different stratum of society from my daughter.”
“Do you think your daughter cares two straws for the gewgaws and the tawdry trappings of Society?” asked Bertram, scornfully.
The Canon shrugged his shoulders.
“I think my daughter is human, Mr. Railing; and although it may surprise you, I will confess that I think a carriage and pair absolutely essential to her happiness.”