"Downright theft, certainly, if he were guilty."
"I say nothing of all that; but looking at the young woman herself"
"She is simply the best educated girl whom it has ever been my lot to meet."
"Henry, I have a right to expect that you will be honest with me."
"I am honest with you."
"Do you mean to ask this girl to marry you?"
"I do not think that you have any right to ask me that question, sir."
"I have a right at any rate to tell you this, that if you so far disgrace yourself and me, I shall consider myself bound to withdraw from you all the sanction which would be conveyed by my—my—my continued assistance."
"Do you intend me to understand that you will stop my income?"
"Certainly I should."
"Then, sir, I think you would behave to me most cruelly. You advised me to give up my profession."
"Not in order that you might marry Grace Crawley."
"I claim the privilege of a man of my age to do as I please in such a matter as marriage. Miss Crawley is a lady. Her father is a clergyman, as is mine. Her father's oldest friend is my uncle. There is nothing on earth against her except her poverty. I do not think I ever heard of such cruelty on a father's part."
"Very well, Henry."
"I have endeavoured to do my duty by you, sir, always; and by my mother. You can treat me in this way, if you please, but it will not have any effect on my conduct. You can stop my allowance to-morrow, if you like it. I had not as yet made up my mind to make an offer to Miss Crawley, but I shall now do so to-morrow morning."
This was very bad indeed, and the archdeacon was extremely unhappy. He was by no means at heart a cruel man. He loved his children dearly. If this disagreeable marriage were to take place, he would doubtless do exactly as his wife had predicted. He would not stop his son's income for a single quarter; and, though he went on telling himself that he would stop it, he knew in his own heart that any such severity was beyond his power. He was a generous man in money matters,—having a dislike for poverty which was not generous,—and for his own sake could not have endured to see a son of his in want. But he was terribly anxious to exercise the power which the use of the threat might give him. "Henry," he said, "you are treating me badly, very badly. My anxiety has always been for the welfare of my
