“I am the wiser already. I am relieved of one fear,” said Mrs. Eastwood; “but, Frederick, more than ever, if this is the case, you ought to be careful about that poor child. How can you tell what fancies you are putting into her head? You have made me most anxious, both on your account and hers.” “Pshaw! Mother, I wish you would put away those womanish notions of yours, and for once understand what a man is thinking of when he has a serious object in hand. Dismiss all this nonsense about that baby Innocent. If she is a little fool, is it my fault?” “If I was in your position, Frederick, I should feel it to be serious, and very much my fault.” “Good heavens! this is how you treat a man when he wants to talk to you seriously. Will you pay a little attention to me for once without dragging in somebody else?” “I have paid too much attention to you one time and another,” said Mrs. Eastwood; “and unless you can speak to your mother, Frederick, with proper respect----” “Oh dear, yes, certainly, as much as you like,” he cried. “I don’t suppose you want me to say honoured madam, or go down on my knees for your blessing.” There was a moment of silence, during which the fumes of this little quarrel dissipated themselves. He did not want to quarrel--it was contrary to his interests. And neither did she. “We need not make a fuss about it,” he said, in a subdued tone. “It is natural enough. I shall be seven-and-twenty presently, which is not so unripe an age. I have got on well enough hitherto living at home, though I have never had a penny to spare, and I daresay there are a few debts here and there to look up; but, of course, if I married, the thing would be simply impossible. We could not come and live with you here, even if we wished it, and unless you could make a tolerable allowance, of course it is useless for me to think of such a thing.” “A tolerable allowance! Frederick, that is what Mr. Molyneux is asking for Nelly.” “I’d see him at Jericho first,” said Frederick; “a miserly old villain, who has money enough to set up a dozen sons. Why should he come to you? I need not point out to you, mother, the very great difference there is between Nelly, who is only your daughter, and myself, the eldest son.” “Has the lady anything?” asked Mrs. Eastwood, skilfully making a diversion. “I hope she is very nice, my dear, and very good, both for your sake and my own; and I would not for the world have you mercenary in your marriage; but still I should like to know--has she anything? I take it for granted she has nice connexions, and every thing else satisfactory.” “I don’t know anything about her means,” said Frederick, in a lordly and splendid way. “That is a question I never thought of asking. She may be richer than I am, though that is not saying much, or she may not have a penny. I cannot tell you. That is the last thing I should have thought it necessary to ask.”