’Father, I do regard what you say; but you would not have me be false.  Had you doubled the property instead of lessening it, I could not regard what you say any more.’

’I should be able to speak in a very different tone; I feel that, Frank.’

’Do not feel it any more, sir; say what you wish, as you would have said it under any other circumstances; and pray believe this, the idea never occurs to me, that I have ground for complaint as regards the property; never.  Whatever troubles we may have, do not let that trouble you.’

Soon after this Frank left him.  What more was there that could be said between them?  They could not be of one accord; but even yet it might not be necessary that they should quarrel.  He went out, and roamed by himself through the grounds, rather more in meditation than was his wont.

If he did marry, how was he to live?  He talked of a profession; but had he meant to do as others do, who make their way in professions, he should have thought of that a year or two ago!—­or, rather, have done more than think of it.  He spoke also of a farm, but even that could not be had in a moment; nor, if it could, would it produce a living.  Where was his capital?  Where was his skill? and he might have asked also, where the industry so necessary for such a trade?  He might have set his father at defiance, and if Mary were equally headstrong with himself, he might marry her.  But, what then?

As he walked slowly about, cutting off the daisies with his stick, he met Mr Oriel, going up to the house, as was now his custom, to dine there and spend the evening, close to Beatrice.

‘How I envy you, Oriel!’ he said.  ’What would I not give to have such a position in the world as yours!’

‘Thou shalt not covet a man’s house, nor his wife,’ said Mr Oriel; ‘perhaps it ought to have been added, nor his position.’

’It wouldn’t have made much difference.  When a man is tempted, the Commandments, I believe, do not go for much.’

’Do they not, Frank?  That’s a dangerous doctrine; and one which, if you had my position, you would hardly admit.  But what makes you so much out of sorts?  Your own position is generally considered about the best which the world has to give.’

’Is it?  Then let me tell you that the world has very little to give.  What can I do?  Where can I turn?  Oriel, if there be an empty, lying humbug in the world, it is the theory of high birth and pure blood which some of us endeavour to maintain.  Blood, indeed!  If my father had been a baker, I should know by this time where to look for my livelihood.  As it is, I am told of nothing but my blood.  Will my blood ever get me half a crown?’

And then the young democrat walked on again in solitude, leaving Mr Oriel in doubt as to the exact line of argument which he had meant to inculcate.

CHAPTER XL