“But what had I _better_ do? call on Kilcullen for an explanation?” “That’s the last thing to think of. No; but declare what he reports to be the truth; return Miss Wyndham the lock of hair you have in your desk, and next your heart, or wherever you keep it; write her a pretty note, and conclude by saying that the ‘Adriatic’s free to wed another’. That’s what I should do.” “It’s very odd, Blake, that you won’t speak seriously to a man for a moment. You’ve as much heart in you as one of your own horses. I wish I’d never come to this cursed lodge of yours. I’d be all right then.” “As for my heart, Frank, if I have as much as my horses, I ought to be contented—for race-horses are usually considered to have a good deal; as for my cursed lodge, I can assure you I have endeavoured, and, if you will allow me, I will still endeavour, to make it as agreeable to you as I am able; and as to my speaking seriously, upon my word, I never spoke more so. You asked me what I thought you had better do—and I began by telling you there would be a great difference between that and what you’d rather do.” “But, in heaven’s name, why would you have me break off with Miss Wyndham, when every one knows I’m engaged to her; and when you know that I wish to marry her?” “Firstly, to prevent her breaking off with you—though I fear there’s hardly time for that; and secondly, in consequence—as the newspapers say, of incompatibility of temper.” “Why, you don’t even know her!” “But I know you, and I know what your joint income would be, and I know that there would be great incompatibility between you, as Lord Ballindine, with a wife and family—and fifteen hundred a year, or so. But mind, I’m only telling you what I think you’d better do.” “Well, I shan’t do that. If I was once settled down, I could live as well on fifteen hundred a year as any country gentleman in Ireland. It’s only the interference of Lord Cashel that makes me determined not to pull in till I am married. If he had let me have my own way, I shouldn’t, by this time, have had a horse in the world, except one or two hunters or so, down in the country.” “Well, Frank, if you’re determined to get yourself married, I’ll give you the best advice in my power as to the means of doing it. Isn’t that what you want?” “I want to know what you think I ought to do, just at this minute.” “With matrimony as the winning-post?” “You know I wish to marry Fanny Wyndham.” “And the sooner the better—is that it?” “Of course. She’ll be of age now, in a few days,” replied Lord Ballindine. “Then I advise you to order a new blue coat, and to buy a wedding-ring.” “Confusion!” cried Frank, stamping his foot; and turning away in a passion; and then he took up his hat, to rush out of the room, in which the latter part of the conversation had taken place. “Stop a minute, Frank,” said Blake, “and don’t be in a passion. What I said was only meant to show you how easy I think it is for you to marry Miss Wyndham if you choose.”