Florence was taken away to her own room, and before she was allowed to
go down stairs she was intimate with both the girls, and had so far
overcome her awe of Harry's mother as to be able to answer her without
confusion.

"Well, sir, what do you think of her?" said Harry to his father, as soon
as they were alone.

"I have not had time to think much of her yet. She seems to be very
pretty. She isn't so tall as I thought she would be."

"No; she's not tall," said Harry, in a voice of disappointment.

"I've no doubt we shall like her very much. What money is she to have?"

"A hundred a year while her father lives."

"That's not much."

"Much or little, it made no difference with me. I should never have
thought of marrying a girl for her money. It's a kind of thing that I
hate. I almost wish she was to have nothing."

"I shouldn't refuse it if I were you."

"Of course, I shan't refuse it; but what I mean is that I never thought
about it when I asked her to have me; and I shouldn't have been a bit
more likely to ask her if she had ten times as much."

"A fortune with one's wife isn't a bad thing for a poor man, Harry."