Captain Aylmer had made a positive promise to his aunt on her deathbed that he would ask Clara Amedroz to be his wife, and be had no more idea of breaking his word than he had of resigning the whole property which had been left to him.  Whether Clara would accept him he had much doubt.  He was a man by no means brilliant, not naturally self-confident, nor was he, perhaps, to be credited with the possession of high principles of the finest sort; but he was clever, in the ordinary sense of the word, knowing his own interest, knowing, too, that that interest depended on other things besides money; and ha was a just man, according to the ordinary rules of justice in the world.  Not for the first time, when he was sitting by the bedside of his dying aunt, had he thought of asking Clara to marry him.  Though he had never hitherto resolved that he would do so though he had never till then brought himself absolutely to determine that he would take so important a step he had pondered over it often, and was aware that he was very fond of Clara.  He was, in truth, as much in love with her as it was in his nature to be in love.  He was not a man to break his heart for a girl nor even to make a strong fight for a wife, as Belton was prepared to do.  If refused once, he might probably ask again having some idea that a first refusal was not always intended to mean much and he might possibly make a third attempt, prompted by some further calculation of the same nature.  But it might be doubted whether, on the first, second, or third occasion, he would throw much passion into his words; and those who knew him well would hardly expect to see him die of a broken heart, should he ultimately be unsuccessful.

When he had first thought of marrying Miss Amedroz he had imagined that she would have shared with him his aunt’s property, and indeed such had been his belief up to the days of the last illness of Mrs Winterfield.  The match therefore had recommended itself to him as being prudent as well as pleasant; and though his aunt had never hitherto pressed the matter upon him, he had understood what her wishes were.  When she first told him, three or four days before her death, that her property was left altogether to him, and then, on hearing how totally her niece was without hope of provision from her father, had expressed her desire to give a sum of money to Clara, she had spoken plainly of her desire but she had not on that occasion asked him for any promise.  But afterwards, when she knew that she was dying, she had questioned him as to his own feelings, and he, in his anxiety to gratify her in her last wishes, had given her the promise which she was so anxious to hear.  He made no difficulty in doing so.  It was his own wish as well as hers.  In a money point of view he might no doubt now do better; but then money was not everything.  He was very fond of Clara, and felt that if she would accept him he would be proud of his wife.  She was well born and well educated, and it was the proper sort of thing