"That we shall see later on; but my young friend is in his salad days, and he's not responsible, but he is almost too honest." "I suppose you'll say I tempted him." "N-o--but you let him fall." "However, you were at hand to rescue him. I wonder you should have wasted your valuable time in going through the formality of consulting me over so trivial an affair." "But it's not trivial. I thought it was till this morning, now I've changed my mind. It's very serious. I've a right to save my friend from making a fool of himself, when he only is the real sufferer; but it's a very different question when the rights of another person are involved, especially when that person is a woman." "So you've come to me?" "To persuade you, if possible, to relinquish those rights." "For his sake?" "No, for your own." "Really--that's a novel point of view to take of the matter." "You think so. I only want you to see the affair in its true light, to realise that the game isn't worth the candle." "I think you'll find it difficult to prove that." "We shall see. Suppose I state the case. Here are you, a charming young lady of good family, but no means, thrown on your own resources; in a word, with the opportunity of marrying a--shall we say, _pliable_--young man, of good official standing, and an undoubtedly large income and principal; who is infatuated--thinks he's fallen in love with you, and whom you really love. There, have I stated the case fairly?" "So fairly, that you'll find it difficult to prove your point." "Let me continue. Suppose you're married; grand ceremonial, great _éclat_, delighted friends and relatives, handsome presents, diamonds and all--he'd do the thing well--honeymoon, say, the Riviera--limit, three months--what next? Where are you going to live? London? It won't do. Property--that property you're so interested in--can't take care of itself; the young heir of those broad plantations must go home and learn the business. Your practical mind shows you the necessity of that. Do you know the life of his native country? No? Your nearest neighbours thirty miles away, and deadly dull at that; your climate a damp, sultry fog; your amusements, sleeping in a hammock two-thirds of the day, when the mosquitoes will let you, and your husband's society, as sole company, the rest of the time. After two or three years, or perhaps four or five--long enough to ruin your matchless complexion, and cause you both to be forgotten by all your friends, except those who can't afford to do so--you come back to London for a nice long visit--say three months. How you will enjoy it! Let me see, what do you most like? Horses, riding, hunting? Ever heard the Secretary's ideas on hunting?" She laughed nervously, and Kent-Lauriston pursued his subject.