“It would be amusing, no doubt,” said Durant; “but do you think it is quite sure that Mr. Curtis will be so rich? I should think it would be better for your sister to keep her money, for she will have a great many expenses.” “Oh, you nasty, unkind, mean--that’s not what I was going to say,” cried Sarah Jane; “but, dear me, you told me yourself Arthur was rich! Ain’t he a baronet’s son? What does he want with her little bit of money? I should be ashamed, myself, of taking money with my wife when I didn’t want it, if I was a rich gentleman. I call that mean.” “But perhaps Mr. Curtis is not so rich as you think,” said Durant. “His father is not an old man; there is no reason why Sir John should not live for twenty years or more.” “Twenty years or more!” cried Sarah Jane, turning upon him eyes that were full of dismay. She stopped short in the street to turn round and fix upon him her alarmed gaze. “Do you mean to say that Nancy--do you mean to tell me that Arthur?--But that would be no better than marrying anyone else. Just Missis, like everybody! Why Nancy!--Nancy will never give in to that.” “I thought that probably you were deceiving yourselves,” said Durant, with some complacency, wondering at this depth of ignorance indeed, but extremely pleased with himself for having divined it, and thus finding a means of working. “Miss Nancy, if she marries Mr. Curtis, will be plain Missis, as you say, for all the world as if she had married the grocer at the corner.” “Oh, the grocer! that is what she is never likely to do,” cried Miss Sarah Jane, with a conscious look towards the corner. The grocer was standing at the door in his apron--a good-looking young man, whose eyes were fixed, as Durant saw with some amusement, on himself, and with a decidedly hostile look. Miss Sarah Jane gave him a nod of airy fascination across the street. Perhaps but for this conversation she would not have been so gracious. Durant perceived that he himself was being presented in the light of a possible rival to the young tradesman, of whom he had spoken so lightly, and it was all he could do to keep his gravity in this very novel and unexpected conjuncture. He made an effort, however, and went on. “You must know,” he said, “that an independent poor man like that very good-looking grocer--” “Oh, poor! none so poor! he is better off than many folks that make a deal more show,” said Sarah Jane. “That is precisely what I was going to say. An independent man in his position, may be really in much better circumstances than the son of a more important person. Sir John Curtis is not a man to be trifled with,” Durant went on, with a momentary half-amused compunction for this cruel slander upon poor Sir John. “He is stern in his own views; he is capable of withdrawing his son’s allowance altogether if he is dissatisfied with his marriage. I am very sorry to alarm you, but I feared you might be under some delusion, and this was what I wanted to say.”