"You are a good fellow, Paul, and my own dear friend, to whom I can talk with all perfect frankness and honesty. I have never mentioned this matter to you before, never offered you my confidence on the subject, although I guessed from your manner once or twice, while down at The Tower, that you had some idea of my attachment to your cousin. I am sure I need not tell you, who know me so well, that, so long as there was the remotest chance of any alliance between you and her, even though it had been what, in the jargon of the world, is called a marriage of convenience, and not one in which on either side affection is supposed to have a part, I should never have dreamed of interposing any obstacle, or of even allowing myself to entertain any strong feeling towards her. I say that boldly now, for I think at that time I could have exercised sufficient self-restraint, had there been occasion for it, though now, God knows, my affection for her is quite beyond my control." He paused for a moment, and Paul took advantage of the opportunity to rise from his seat, and walking round the desk, to lay his hand affectionately on his friend's broad shoulders. "Of course, I know that, old man; of course, I know that you are the soul of honour and truth, and that you would have eaten your heart quietly, and never said a word. But there is no occasion for all that now, thank Heaven! I am in a nice mess with my business; but there's no reason why you shouldn't be happy." "My dear Paul, any future for me and Annette together is impossible." "What utter rubbish! I am perfectly confident of my own power of squaring my mother, and bringing her to see the thing in a proper light, now that she knows that there is no chance with me; and the governor's sure to follow as a matter of course; or supposing they remained obstinate, and refuse to give their consent, Annette loses her fortune, that's all. You've got quite enough to keep her in amply sufficient style; and for the matter of that, some time or other the money must come to me, and you and she should have as much of it as you liked--all of it, if you wanted it. Money's no good to me, poor miserable beggar that I am." "It is not a question of money, Paul, or of Mrs. Derinzy's consent; there's something very far worse behind--something which I discovered when we were down at Beachborough together, and which I have hitherto kept back from you, partly because the revelation of it could do no good, and partly because I had a certain delicacy in telling you of what must, I fear, deprive certain persons of a portion of the estimation in which they have hitherto held me." "Go on," said Paul quickly; "I haven't the least idea of what you mean."