"It might, is all that I say. A romantic sentiment is tougher. Now, I
have been straightforward with you: will you be with me? I shall not
hurt the man, or wound his feelings."

He paused; but it was to find that no admission of the truth, save what
oozed out in absence of speech, was to be expected. She seemed, after
the fashion of women, to have got accustomed to the new atmosphere into
which he had dragged her, without any conception of a forward movement.

"I see I must explain to you how we are situated," said Wilfrid. "We
are in a serious plight. You should be civil to this woman for several
reasons--for your father's sake and your own. She is very rich."

"Oh, Wilfrid!"

"Well, I find money well thought of everywhere."

"Has your late school been good for you?"

"This woman, I repeat, is rich, and we want money. Oh! not the ordinary
notion of wanting money, but the more we have the more power we have.
Our position depends on it."

"Yes, if we can be tempted to think so," flashed Cornelia.

"Our position depends on it. If you posture, and are poor, you provoke
ridicule: and to think of scorning money, is a piece of folly no girls
of condition are guilty of. Now, you know I am fond of you; so I'll
tell you this: you have a chance; don't miss it. Something unpleasant is
threatening; but you may escape it. It would be madness to throw such a
chance away, and it is your duty to take advantage of it. What is there
plainer? You are engaged to no one."

Cornelia came timidly close to him. "Pray, be explicit!"

"Well!--this offer."

"Yes; but what--there is something to escape from."

Wilfrid deliberately replied: "There is no doubt of the Pater's
intentions with regard to Mrs. Chump."

"He means...?"

"He means to marry her."

"And you, Wilfrid?"

"Well, of course, he cuts me out. There--there! forgive me: but what can
I do?"

"Do you conspire--Wilfrid, is it possible?--are you an accomplice in the
degradation of our house?"

Cornelia had regained her courage, perforce of wrath. Wilfrid's
singular grey eyes shot an odd look at her. He is to be excused for not
perceiving the grandeur of the structure menaced; for it was invisible
to all the world, though a real fabric.

"If Mrs. Chump were poor, I should think the Pater demented," he said.
"As it is--! well, as it is, there's grist to the mill, wind to the
organ. You must be aware" (and he leaned over to her with his most
suspicious gentleness