“He is a lawyer,” said Carroll, on whose mind the memory of the great benefit he had received had made some impression.  “I have admitted that.”

“Pshaw!”

“But I don’t think he’s pettifogging; not Mr. Grey.  Four hundred pounds down, with fifty pounds for dress, and the same, or most the same, to all the girls, isn’t pettifogging.  If you ever comes to have a family, Juniper—­”

“I ain’t in the way.”

“But when you are, and there comes six of ’em, you won’t find an uncle pettifogging when he speaks out like Mr. Grey.”

The conversation was carried on for some time farther, and then Mr. Juniper left the house without again visiting the ladies.  His last word was that if inquiries were made into him they might all go to—­Bath!  If the money were forthcoming, they would know where to find him; but it must be five hundred pounds “square,” with no parings made from it on behalf of petticoats and pelisses.  With this last word Mr. Juniper stamped down the stairs and out of the house.

“He’s a brute, after all!” said Sophie.

“No, he isn’t.  What do you know about brutes?  Of course a gentleman has to make the best fight he can for his money.”  This was what Amelia said at the moment; but in the seclusion of their own room she wept bitterly.  “Why didn’t he come in to see me and just give me one word?  I hadn’t done anything amiss.  It wasn’t my fault if Uncle John is stingy.”

“And he isn’t so very stingy, after all,” said Sophie.

“Of course papa hasn’t got anything, and wouldn’t have anything, though you were to pour golden rivers into his lap.”

“There are worse than papa,” said Sophie.

“But he knows all that, and that our uncle isn’t any more than an uncle.  And why should he be so particular just about a hundred pounds?  I do think gentlemen are the meanest creatures when they are looking after money!  Ladies ain’t half so bad.  He’d no business to expect five hundred pounds all out.”

This was very melancholy, and the house was kept in a state of silent sorrow for four or five days, till the result of the inquiries had come.  Then there was weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Mr. Barry came to Bolsover Terrace to communicate the result of the inquiry, and was shut up for half an hour with poor Mrs. Carroll.  He was afraid that he could not recommend the match.  “Oh, I’m sorry for that,—­very sorry!” said Mrs. Carroll.  “The young lady will be—­disappointed.”  And her handkerchief went up to her eyes.  Then there was silence for awhile, till she asked why an opinion so strongly condemnatory had been expressed.

“The gentleman, ma’am,—­is not what a gentleman should be.  You may take my word for it.  I must ask you not to repeat what I say to him.”

“Oh dear, no.”

“But perhaps the least said the soonest mended.  He is not what a gentleman should be.”

“You mean a—­fine gentleman.”