’Let me speak.  Young people will say anything.  Well, they have a certain excuse for selfishness; we have not.  I am in some degree bound to my nephew; he is my sister’s son.’

’Assuredly, my lady.  I would not stand in his light, be quite assured.  If I am, I was saying if I am not mistaken, I . . . and he is, or has the making of an excellent soldier in him, and is likely to be a distinguished cavalry officer.’

‘He has to carve his own way in the world, General.’

’All good soldiers have, my lady.  And if my position is not, after a considerable term of service, I say if . . .’

‘To continue,’ said Lady Camper:  ’I never have liked early marriages.  I was married in my teens before I knew men.  Now I do know them, and now . . .’

The General plunged forward:  ’The honour you do us now:—­a mature experience is worth:—­my dear Lady Camper, I have admired you:—­and your objection to early marriages cannot apply to . . . indeed, madam, vigour, they say . . . though youth, of course . . . yet young people, as you observe . . . and I have, though perhaps my reputation is against it, I was saying I have a natural timidity with your sex, and I am grey-headed, white-headed, but happily without a single malady.’

Lady Camper’s brows showed a trifling bewilderment.  ’I am speaking of these young people, General Ople.’

’I consent to everything beforehand, my dear lady.  He should be, I say Mr. Rolles should be provided for.’

‘So should she, General, so should Elizabeth.’

’She shall be, she will, dear madam.  What I have, with your permission, if—­good heaven!  Lady Camper, I scarcely know where I am.  She would . . . .  I shall not like to lose her:  you would not wish it.  In time she will . . . she has every quality of a good wife.’

‘There, stay there, and be intelligible,’ said Lady Camper.  ’She has every quality.  Money should be one of them.  Has she money?’

‘Oh! my lady,’ the General exclaimed, ’we shall not come upon your purse when her time comes.’

‘Has she ten thousand pounds?’

’Elizabeth?  She will have, at her father’s death . . . but as for my income, it is moderate, and only sufficient to maintain a gentlemanly appearance in proper self-respect.  I make no show.  I say I make no show.  A wealthy marriage is the last thing on earth I should have aimed at.  I prefer quiet and retirement.  Personally, I mean.  That is my personal taste.  But if the lady . . . .  I say if it should happen that the lady . . . . and indeed I am not one to press a suit:  but if she who distinguishes and honours me should chance to be wealthy, all I can do is to leave her wealth at her disposal, and that I do:  I do that unreservedly.  I feel I am very confused, alarmingly confused.  Your ladyship merits a superior . . .  I trust I have not . . .  I am entirely at your ladyship’s mercy.’