Part 5 (1/2)
”Some men need not think of it on this side forty or on this side fifty, unless they choose to do so: your brother Thomas is one,” returned Sir George. ”But they are those who know how to sow their wild oats without it.”
”I shall sow mine in good time,” said George, with a gay, half-conscious smile. ”Thomas never had any to sow.”
”I wish you would settle the time and keep it, then,” was the marked rejoinder. ”It might be better for you.”
”Settle the time for my marriage, do you mean, sir?”
”You know what I mean. But I suppose you do intend to marry some time, George?”
”I dare say I shall. It is a thing that comes to most of us as a matter of course; as measles or vaccination,” spoke irreverent George. ”You mentioned Charlotte Pain, sir: I presume you have no urgent wish that my choice should fall upon her?”
”If I had, would you comply with it?”
George raised his blue eyes to his father. ”I have never thought of Charlotte Pain as a wife.”
”She is a fine girl, a wonderfully fine girl; and if, as is rumoured, she has a fortune, you might go further and fare worse,” remarked Sir George. ”If you don't like Charlotte Pain, find out some one else that you would like. Only, take care that there's money with her.”
”Money is desirable in itself. But it does not invariably bring happiness, sir.”
”I never heard that it brought unhappiness, Master George. I cannot have you both marry portionless women. Thomas has chosen one who has nothing: it will not do for you to follow his example. The world is before you; choose wisely.”
”If we choose portionless women, we are not portionless ourselves.”
”We have a credit to keep up before the public, George. It stands high; it deserves to stand high; I hope it always will do so. But I consider it necessary that one of you should marry a fortune; I should have been glad that both had done so. Take the hint, George; and never expect my consent to your making an undesirable match, for it would not be given.”
”But, if my inclination fixed itself upon one who has no money, what then, sir?” asked bold George carelessly.
Sir George pushed from before him a dish of filberts, so hastily as to scatter them on the table. It proved to his sons, who knew him well, that the question had annoyed him.
”Your inclinations are as yet free, George: I say the world is before you, and you may choose wisely. If you do not: if, after this warning, you suffer your choice to rest where it is undesirable that it should rest, you will do it in deliberate defiance of me. In that case I shall disinherit you: partially, if not wholly.”
Something appeared to be on the tip of George's tongue, but he checked it, and there ensued a pause.
”Thomas is to be allowed to follow his choice,” he presently said.
”I had not warned Thomas with regard to a choice; therefore he has been guilty of no disobedience. It is his having chosen as he has, that reminds me to caution you. Be careful, my boy.”
”Well, sir, I have no intention of marrying yet, and I suppose you will not disinherit me for keeping single,” concluded George good-humouredly.
He rose to leave the room as he spoke, throwing a merry glance towards Thomas as he did so, who had taken no part whatever in the conversation.
The twilight of the evening had pa.s.sed, but the moon shone bright and clear, rendering the night nearly as light as day. Janet G.o.dolphin stood on the lawn with Miss Hastings, when George stepped out and joined them.
”Moon-gazing, Janet!”
”Yes,” she answered. ”I am going on to the ash-trees.”
George paused before he again spoke. ”Why are you going thither?”
”Because,” whispered Janet, glancing uneasily around, ”they say the Shadow is there again.”