"Of course it's the one thing in the world for me; but--but I wanted to do it for myself, you know." Grantley still smiled on him, with a touch of mockery now. "Yes, well, I know I couldn't." He looked at Grantley in a puzzled way. "What makes it worse," he went on, "is that I've been doing you an injustice in a kind of way. I knew you were always kind and--and jolly, but somehow I thought you were a fellow who wouldn't put himself out very much for--for anybody else." "I am not putting myself out. I like it." "Planking down five thousand, and not knowing when you'll get it back, if you ever do? If you like that for its own sake, it's rather a rare taste." "Now don't jaw any more," said Grantley with friendly impatience. "I was just going to sign the deed when you came in--I should have done it by now, but I must have a witness, and I didn't want to ring Thompson up from his dinner. We'll ring for him now." "I'm not an ass," said Jeremy. "I don't think that because a man marries a woman he's bound to provide for her family--or to like them either." "You grow in worldly wisdom." "Yes, I fancy I do. I know a bit more about myself too. I might have worked ten years and not got this money." "Oh, thank my forefathers! I've not worked ten years, or ten minutes either, for you!" His back had been to Jeremy. He turned round now as he said slowly, "You may consider it as a thanksoffering for my happiness with Sibylla." "And why isn't she to know?" "I like it better that way for the present. I'm entitled to make that condition." Jeremy went back to his defence of himself against himself. "A week ago I--I'd have backed myself to make it somehow. But--well, one soon learns how devilish hard it is to get what one wants. What a conceited young idiot you must have thought me when we used to talk down at Milldean!" "You were always an excellent companion. Let's ring for Thompson and execute the deed." Jeremy could not refuse, and could not yet consent. Grantley stood smoking airily and looking at him with a whimsical smile. Then the door opened and the butler came in, unsummoned. "Ah, the fates decide!" exclaimed Grantley with a laugh. "Where's a pen, Jeremy?" "For you, sir," said Thompson, holding out a salver with a letter on it. "Oh!" Grantley laid down his pen, took the letter, and sat down at the writing-table. "Wait a minute; I want you to witness something for me," he said to the butler.