“And you have not a penny in the world,” said Mr. Brownlow, in his dispassionate voice.
“No,” said Jack, “I have not a penny in the world.”
And then there was another pause. The very stars seemed to have gone in, not to look at his discomfiture, poor fellow! A cold little wind had sprung up, and went moaning out and in eerily among the trees; even old Betty at the lodge had gone to bed, and there was no light to be seen from her windows. The prospect was black, dreary, very chilling--nothing to be seen but the sky, over which clouds were stealing, and the tree-tops swaying wildly against them; and the sound of the steps on the gravel. Jack had uttered his last words with great firmness and even a touch of indignation; but there can be no doubt that heaviness was stealing over his heart.
“If it had been any one but yourself who told me, Jack,” said his father, “I should not have believed it. You of all men in the world--I ought to beg your pardon for misjudging you. I thought you would think of your own pleasure rather than of any body’s comfort, and I was mistaken. I beg your pardon. I am glad to have to make you an apology like this.”
“Thanks,” said Jack, curtly. It was complimentary, no doubt; but the compliment itself was not complimentary. I beg your pardon for thinking you a villain--that was how it sounded to his ears; and he was not flattered even by his escape.
“But I can’t rejoice over the rest,” said Mr. Brownlow--“it is going against all your own principles, for one thing. You are very young--you have no call to marry for ten years at least--and of course if you wait ten years you will change your mind.”
“I have not the least intention of waiting ten years,” said Jack.
“Then perhaps you will be so good as to inform me what your intentions are,” said his father, with a little irony; “if you have thought at all on the subject it may be the easier way.”
“Of course I have thought on the subject,” said Jack; “I hope I am not a fellow to do things without thinking. I don’t pretend it is prudent. Prudence is very good, but there are some things that are better. I mean to get married with the least possible delay.”
“Then, sir, I suppose,” said Jack, not without a touch of bitterness, “you will let me remain in the office, and keep my clerkship; seeing that, as you say, I have not a penny in the world.”