made a long and
intricate explanation of his affairs, the object of which was to
prove to Mr. Neefit that a little more delay was essential. He was so
environed by business and difficulties at the present moment that he
could take no immediate step such as Mr. Neefit suggested,--no such
step quite immediately. In about another fortnight, or in a month at
the furthest, he would be able to declare his purpose. "And how about
Moggs?" said Neefit, putting his hands into his breeches-pocket,
pulling down the corners of his mouth, and fixing his saucer eyes
full upon the young man's face. So he stood for some seconds, and
then came the words of which Waddle had spoken. Neefit could not
disentangle the intricacies of Ralph's somewhat fictitious story; but
he had wit enough to know what it meant. "You ain't on the square,
Captain. That's what you ain't," he said at last. It must be owned
that the accusation was just, and it was made so loudly that Waddle
did not at all exaggerate in saying that there had been words.
Nevertheless, when Ralph left the shop Neefit relented. "You come to
me, Captain, when Moggs's bit of stiff comes round."

A few days after that Ralph went to Sir Thomas, with the object of
declaring his decision;--at least Sir Thomas understood that such
was to be the purport of the visit. According to his ideas there
had been quite enough of delay. The Squire had been liberal in his
offer; and though the thing to be sold was in all its bearings so
valuable, though it carried with it a value which, in the eyes of
Sir Thomas,--and, indeed, in the eyes of all Englishmen,--was far
beyond all money price, though the territorial position was, for a
legitimate heir, almost a principality; yet, when a man cannot keep a
thing, what can he do but part with it? Ralph had made his bed, and
he must lie upon it. Sir Thomas had done what he could, but it had
all amounted to nothing. There was this young man a beggar,--but for
this reversion which he had now the power of selling. As for that
mode of extrication by marrying the breeches-maker's daughter,--that
to Sir Thomas was infinitely the worst evil of the two. Let Ralph
accept his uncle's offer and he would still be an English gentleman,
free to live as such, free to marry as such, free to associate with
friends fitting to his habits of life. And he would be a gentleman,
too, with means sufficing for a gentleman's wants. But that escape by
way of the breeches-maker's daught