me?"

"Good heavens;--what more can you want? I will not--consent--to give
up--my house at Maule Abbey for your use,--as long as I live. Will
that do? And if you choose to marry a wife and starve, I won't think
that any reason why I should starve too. Will that do? And your
friend, Lady Chiltern, may--go--and be d----d. Will that do?"

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Gerard." So the interview was over, and Gerard Maule
left the room. The father, as soon as he was alone, immediately lit
another cigarette, took up his French novel, and went to work as
though he was determined to be happy and comfortable again without
losing a moment. But he found this to be beyond his power. He had
been really disturbed, and could not easily compose himself. The
cigarette was almost at once chucked into the fire, and the little
volume was laid on one side. Mr. Maule rose almost impetuously from
his chair, and stood with his back to the fire, contemplating the
proposition that had been made to him.

It was actually true that he had been offended by the very faint idea
of death which had been suggested to him by his son. Though he was
a man bearing no palpable signs of decay, in excellent health, with
good digestion,--who might live to be ninety,--he did not like to be
warned that his heir would come after him. The claim which had been
put forward to Maule Abbey by his son had rested on the fact that
when he should die the place must belong to his son;--and the fact
was unpleasant to him. Lady Chiltern had spoken of him behind
his back as being mortal, and in doing so had been guilty of an
impertinence. Maule Abbey, no doubt, was a ruined old house, in which
he never thought of living,--which was not let to a tenant by the
creditors of his estate, only because its condition was unfit for
tenancy. But now Mr. Maule began to think whether he might not
possibly give the lie to these people who were compassing his death,
by returning to the halls of his ancestors, if not in the bloom of
youth, still in the pride of age. Why should he not live at Maule
Abbey if this successful marriage could be effected? He almost knew
himself well enough to be aware that a month at Maule Abbey would
destroy him; but it is the proper thing for a man of fashion to have
a place of his own, and he had always been alive to the glory of
being Mr. Maule of Maule Abbey. In preparing the way for the marriage
that was to come he must be so known. To be spoken o