what I should call being in love."

"But can't you understand--"

"No, I can't, unless you mean that you are down with marriage fever."

"I have considered the matter carefully, and am convinced I am right,"
he answered, looking at Frank as if he would say, but didn't dare,
"don't let's talk about it any more, it only distresses me." "The
marriage must be kept a secret. If my father were to hear of it I
should be ruined, whereas if Mary will consent to go on living as we
are living now, one of these days she will be a rich woman. I daresay
my share of his money will come to at least fifteen hundred a year,
and then I shall be able to recompense her for the years she has
waited for it. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly. The only thing I don't see is how I am to influence her.
You've no doubt told her and fully explained to her what the
consequences would be if you were to publish the banns."

"I have, but it would strengthen my hand if you were to tell her all
you know of my father. Tell her that he is very obstinate, pig-headed,
and would certainly cut me off; tell her that he is sixty-six, that it
is a hundred to one against his living till he is eighty, even if he
did there would be only fourteen years to wait for fifteen hundred a
year; tell her if she tells that I have married her it is just as if
she threw fifteen hundred a year out of the window."

"And when shall I tell her all this?"