anything just yet. Apart from his natural reserve, Sir Harry was
not the man he would have chosen for such confidences till they became
inevitable. The fact that his father was still emotionally young and had
love affairs of his own gave him feelings of repugnance and
irritation--he could have endured the conventionally paternal praise or
blame, but he was vaguely outraged by the queer basis of equality from
which Sir Harry dealt with his experiences. But now the truth was out.
What would they say, these two?--The old rake who refused to turn his
back on youth and love, and the triple-vowed religious who had renounced
both before he had enjoyed either.

Sir Harry was the first to speak.

"Martin, I am an old man, who will soon be forced to dye his hair, and
really my constitution is not equal to these shocks. What on earth
makes you think you want to marry Joanna Godden?"

"I love her."

"A most desperate situation. But surely marriage is rather a drastic
remedy."

"Well, don't let's talk about it any longer. I'm going to dress--Saville
will be here in a quarter of an hour."

"But I must talk about it. Hang it all, I'm your father--I'm the father
of both of you, though you don't like it a bit and would rather forget
it. Martin, you mustn't marry Joanna Godden however much you love her.
It would be a silly mistake--she's not your equal, and she's not your
type. Have you asked her?"

"Practically."

"Oh that's all right, then. It doesn't matter asking a woman practically
as long as you don't ask her literally."

"Father, please don't talk about it."

"I will talk about it. Lawrence, do you know what this idiot's letting
himself in for? Have you seen Joanna Godden? Why, she'd never do for
him? She's a big, bouncing female, and her stays creak."

"Be quiet, father. You make me furious."

"Yes, you'll be disrespectful to me in a minute. That would be very sad,
and the breaking of a noble record. Of course it's presumptuous of me to
want a lady for my daughter-in-law, and perhaps you're right to chuck
away the poor remains of our dignity--they were hardly worth keeping."

"I've thought over that," said Martin. He saw now that having recklessly
started the subject he could not put it aside till it had been fought
out. "I've thought over that, and I've come to the conclusion that
Joanna's worth any sacrifice I can make for her."

"But not marriage--why must you ask her to marry you? You don't really
know her.