“Approval! that was a likely thing; what was the use of making appeals or giving explanations? Here is an example; the moment they do hear, they send you primed and prepossessed against it. I answered their questions; but I knew it was useless, and why should I humiliate myself--and _her_? When it is irrevocable and can’t be altered, I always intended to let them know the whole, and throw myself upon their mercy.” “It is clear you expect more magnanimity from them than they have found in you.” “Well,” said Arthur coolly, “a man must have queer parents if he does not take that for granted. They do put up with things when they can’t help themselves. What is the good of worrying them with opposition (which it was clear they must make) and which could only irritate both parties? No, it was not done by inadvertence, it was done advisedly. If you never learned, old fellow, the advantage of doing a thing without permission rather than in the face of a prohibition--it makes all the difference,” said Arthur with a sudden hoarse laugh, which ended as suddenly as it began, and had anything but humour in the sound of it. “No, I have no instructions to give you, I will write as soon as--well, after we are married; why should I do anything before?” “Arthur, for God’s sake!” cried his friend, “pause still, think what you are doing.” “That is enough, that is enough! don’t risk our friendship once again, just after it has been renewed; and as you say, if I am going to do anything so very imprudent, at least don’t let me lose my friend too,” he said, looking at Durant, with eyes which laughed, yet were not far off from tears, and grasping his hand hurriedly. “I’m glad we are not parting for ever, old boy, as I almost feared: though I should not wonder if the next morning after we had parted for ever, I had knocked you up to tell you what folly it was. A dozen years are not done away with so easily, are they? after all.”