both flattered and pained by what I believe to be the kindly object of
your visit. Indeed, I may say I have gathered a suspicion of what might
be the sequel of this most unhappy acquaintance of my son and your
daughter; but I cannot believe that he has kept you in ignorance of his
unfortunate prospects and his still more unfortunate state of health."

"When I told ye to hold on a minit," continued the blacksmith's voice,
with a touch of querulousness in its accent, "that was jist wot I was
comin' to. I knowed part of it from my own pocket, she knowed the rest
of it from his lip and the doctors she interviewed. And then she says to
me--sez my girl Minty--Pop,' she sez, 'he's got nothing to live for now
but his title, and that he never may live to get, so that I think ye kin
jist go, Pop, and fairly and squarely, as a honest man, ask his father
to let me hev him.' Them's my darter's own words, Sir Robert, and when
I tell yer that she's got a million o' dollars to back them, ye'll know
she means business, every time."

"Did Francis know that you were coming here?"

"Bless ye, no! he don't know that she would have him. Ef it kem to that,
he ain't even asked her! She wouldn't let him until she was sure of
YOU."

"Then you mean to say there is no engagement?"

"In course not. I reckoned to do the square thing first with ye."

The halting step of the Baronet crossing the room was heard distinctly.
He had stopped beside Sharpe. "My dear Mr. Sharpe," he said, in a
troubled voice, "I cannot permit this sacrifice. It is too--too great!"