"
"And that girl Paget, too; she has turned out a regular trump. I used to
think her a very stiff, consequential piece of goods when I saw her at
the Lawn; but, egad, she has shown herself the genuine metal all through
this business. Now that's a young woman I wouldn't mind making Mrs.
George Sheldon any day in the week."
"You do her too much honour," said Valentine, with an internal shiver.
"Unhappily, a prior engagement will prevent Miss Paget's availing herself
of so excellent an opportunity."
"It mayn't be such a very bad chance as you seem to think it, my friend,"
George replied, with some indignation. "Whenever the Reverend John
Haygarth's estate drops in, I stand to win fifty thousand pounds. And
that's not so bad for a start in life, I suppose you haven't forgotten
that your wife is heir-at-law to a hundred thousand pounds?"
"No, I have not forgotten her position in relation to the Haygarth
estate."
"Humph! I should rather think not. People don't generally forget that
kind of thing. But you are uncommonly cool about the business."
"Yes, I have passed through a fiery furnace in which all the bullion in
the Bank of England will not serve a man. That kind of ordeal upsets
one's old notions as to the value of money. And, again, I have never been
able to contemplate Charlotte's inheritance of that fortune as anything
but a remote contingency; the business is so slow.
Pages:
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506