And, having given the promise, it was a matter of course with him to fulfil it.  He was a man who would have never respected himself again would have hated himself for ever, had he failed to keep a promise from which no living being could absolve him.  He had been right therefore to make the promise, and having made it, had been right to keep it, and to do the thing at once.  And Clara was very good and very wise, and sometimes looked very well, and would never disgrace him; and as she was in worldly matters to receive much and give nothing, she would probably be willing to make herself amenable to any arrangements as to their future mode of life which he might propose.  In respect of this matter he was probably thinking of lodgings for himself in London during the parliamentary session, while she remained alone in the big red house upon which his eyes were fixed at the time.  There was much of convenience in all this, which might perhaps atone to him for the sacrifice which he was undoubtedly making of himself.  Had marriage simply been of itself a thing desirable, he could doubtless have disposed of himself to better advantage.  His prospects, present fortune, and general position were so favourable, that he might have dared to lift his expectations, in regard both to wealth and rank, very high.  The Aylmers were a considerable people, and he, though a younger brother, bad much more than a younger brother’s portion.  His seat in Parliament was safe; his position in society was excellent and secure; he was exactly so placed that marriage with a fortune was the only thing wanting to put the finishing coping-stone to his edifice that, and perhaps also the useful glory of having some Lady Mary or Lady Emily at the top of his table.  Lady Emily Aylmer?  Yes it would have sounded better, and there was a certain Lady Emily who might have suited.  Now, as some slight regrets stole upon him gently, he failed to remember that this Lady Emily had not a shilling in the world.

Yes; some faint regrets did steal upon him, though he went on telling himself that he had acted rightly.  His stars, which were generally very good to him, had not perhaps on this occasion been as good as usual.  No doubt he had to a certain degree become encumbered with Clara Amedroz.  Had not the direct and immediate leap with which she had come into his arms shown him somewhat too plainly that one word of his mouth tending towards matrimony had been regarded by her as being too valuable to be lost?  The fruit that falls easily from the tree, though it is ever the best, is never valued by the gardener.  Let him have well-nigh broken his neck in gathering it, unripe and crude, from the small topmost boughs of the branching tree, and the pippin will be esteemed by him as invaluable.  On that morning, as Captain Aylmer had walked home from church, he had doubted much what would be Clara’s answer to him.  Then the pippin was at the end of the dangerous bough.  Now it had fallen to