eat, but George soon
found a seat for himself. "And now what is it?" said Sir Harry, with
his blackest frown.

"I have asked my cousin to be my wife."

"What! Emily?"

"Yes, Emily; and she has consented. I now ask for your approval." We
must give Cousin George his due, and acknowledge that he made his
little request exactly as he would have done had he been master of
ten thousand a year of his own, quite unencumbered.

"What right had you, sir, to speak to her without coming to me
first?"

"One always does, I think, go to the girl first," said George.

"You have disgraced yourself, sir, and outraged my hospitality. You
are no gentleman!"

"Sir Harry, that is strong language."

"Strong! Of course it is strong. I mean it to be strong. I shall make
it stronger yet if you attempt to say another word to her."

"Look here, Sir Harry, I am bound to bear a good deal from you, but I
have a right to explain."

"You have a right, sir, to go away from this, and go away you shall."

"Sir Harry, you have told me that I am not a gentleman."

"You have abused my kindness to you. What right have you, who have
not a shilling in the world, to speak to my daughter? I won't have
it, and let that be an end of it. I won't have it. And I must desire
that you will leave Humblethwaite to-morrow. I won't have it."

"It is quite true that I have not a shilling."

"Then what business have you to speak to my daughter?"

"Because I have that which is worth many shillings, and which you
value above all your property. I am the heir to your name and title.
When you are gone, I must be the head of this family. I do not in the
least quarrel with you for choosing to leave your property to your
own child, but I have done the best I could to keep the property and
the title together. I love my cousin."

"I don't believe in your love, sir."

"If that is all, I do not doubt but that I can satisfy you."

"It is not all; and it is not half all. And it isn't because you are
a pauper. You know it all as well as I do, without my telling you,
but you drive me to tell you."

"Know what, sir?"

"Though you hadn't a shilling, you should have had her if you could
win her,--had your life been even fairly decent. The title must go to
you,--worse luck for the family. You can talk well enough, and what
you say is true. I would wish that they should go together."

"Of course it will be better."

"But, sir,--" then Sir Henry paused.

"Well, Sir H