ut
his mind would fly off to Clara Desmond and her perfections. And
thus, though he remained there for half an hour, with his back to the
fire and his hands in his pockets, his deliberations had done him no
good whatever,--had rather done him harm, seeing that he had only
warmed himself into a firmer determination to go on with what he was
doing. And then he went to his mother.

She kissed him, and spoke very tenderly, nay affectionately, about
Clara; but even she, even his mother, did not speak joyously; and she
also said something about the difficulty of providing a maintenance
for a married son. Then to her he burst forth, and spoke somewhat
loudly.

"I cannot understand all this, mother. If either you or my father
know any reason why I should be treated differently from other sons,
you ought to tell me; not leave me to grope about in the dark."

"But, my boy, we both think that no son was ever entitled to more
consideration, or to kinder or more liberal treatment."

"Why do I hear all this, then, about the difficulty of my marrying?
Or if I hear so much, why do I not hear more? I know pretty well, I
believe, what is my father's income."

"If you do not, he would tell you for the asking."

"And I know that I must be the heir to it, whatever it is,--not that
that feeling would make any difference in my dealings with him, not
the least. And, under these circumstances, I cannot conceive why he
and you should look coldly upon my marriage."

"I look coldly on it, Herbert!"

"Do you not? Do you not tell me that there will be no income for me?
If that is to be so; if that really is the case; if the property has
so dwindled away, or become embarrassed--"

"Oh, Herbert! there never was a man less likely to injure his son's
property than your father."

"I do not mean that, mother. Let him do what he likes with it,
I should not upbraid him, even in my thoughts. But if it be
embarrassed; if it has dwindled away; if there be any reason why
I should not regard myself as altogether untrammelled with regard
to money, he ought to tell me. I cannot accuse myself of expensive
tastes."

"Dearest Herbert, nobody accuses you of anything."

"But I do desire to marry; and now I have engaged myself, and will
not break from my engagement, unless it be shown to me that I am
bound in honour to do so. Then, indeed--"

"Oh, Herbert! I do not know what you mean."

"I mean this: that I expect that Clara shall be received as my wi