“Just stick to them, Mr. Prosper.”

“Exactly, Mr. Barry.  That is what I intend.  There is nothing I dislike so much as this haggling about money, especially with a lady.  Miss Thoroughbung is a lady for whom I have the highest possible esteem.”

“That’s of course.”

“For whom, I repeat, I have the highest possible esteem.  But she has friends who have their own ideas as to money.  The brewery in Buntingford belongs to them, and they are very worthy people.  I should explain to you, Mr. Barry, as you are my confidential adviser, that were I about to form a matrimonial alliance in the heyday of my youth, I should probably not have thought of connecting myself with the Thoroughbungs.  As I have said before, they are most respectable people; but they do not exactly belong to that class in which I should, under those circumstances, have looked for a wife.  I might probably have ventured to ask for the hand of the daughter of some county family.  But years have slipped by me, and now wishing in middle life to procure for myself the comfort of wedded happiness, I have looked about, and have found no one more likely to give it me, than Miss Thoroughbung.  Her temper is excellent, and her person pleasing.”  Mr. Prosper, as he said this, thought of the kiss which had been bestowed upon him.  “Her wit is vivacious, and I think that upon the whole she will be desirable as a companion.  She will not come to this house empty-handed; but of her pecuniary affairs you already know so much that I need, perhaps, tell you nothing farther.  But though I am exceedingly desirous to make this lady my wife, and am, I may say, warmly attached to her, there are certain points which I cannot sacrifice.  Now about the ponies—­”

“I think I understand about the ponies.  She may bring them on trial.”

“I’m not to be bound to keep any ponies at all.  There are a pair of carriage-horses which must suffice.  On second thoughts, she had better not bring the ponies.”  This decision had at last come from some little doubt on his mind as to whether he was treating Harry justly.

“And four hundred pounds is the sum fixed on for her jointure.”

“She is to have her own money for her own life,” said Mr. Prosper.

“That’s a matter of course.”

“Don’t you think that, under these circumstances, four hundred will be quite enough?”

“Quite enough, if you ask me.  But we must decide.”

“Four hundred it shall be.”

“And she is to have two-thirds of her own money for her own expenses during your life?” asked Mr. Barry.

“I don’t see why she should want six hundred a year for herself; I don’t indeed.  I am afraid it will only lead to extravagance!” Barry assumed a look of despair.  “Of course, as I have said so, I will not go back from my word.  She shall have two-thirds.  But about the ponies my mind is quite made up.  There shall be no ponies at Buston.  I hope you understand that, Mr. Barry?” Mr. Barry said that he did understand it well, and then, folding up his papers, prepared to go, congratulating himself that he would not have to pass a long evening at Buston Hall.