“Oh, yes, of course. My dear Marsten, what you suggest is delightfully simple, and is precisely what would present itself to the well-regulated mind, It would be the sane thing to do and would be so charmingly proper. But you see, Marsten, my boy, I understand a thing or two about women, which you may not yet have had experience enough to learn. I don’t want too much parental sanction about this affair, because a young girl delights in an innocent little escapade on her own account,--don’t you see what I mean? Of course, if the villain of the piece is baffled, he will ultimately appeal to the proper authority; but you know I have already seen a good deal of the young lady under the parental wing--if I may so state the fact; and although she is pleasant enough and all that, I don’t seem to be making as much progress with her as I would like, don’t you know. Now a little flavour of--well, you understand what I mean--thingumbob--you know--romance, and that sort of thing--is worth all the cut-and-dried ‘Bless-you-my-children’ in the market. You’ll know all about that, as you grow older, my boy.” “Mr. Hope----” “Look here, my boy, call me Barney. Few of my friends say ‘Mr. Hope,’ and when any one does say it, I always think he is referring to my father, who is at this moment giddily enjoying his precious self at Dresden, or thereabouts. You were about to----” “I was about to say I would very much like to oblige you, but I have scruples about doing what you ask of me.” “Marsten--you’ll forgive me, won’t you?--but I’m afraid you’re very much like the rest of the world. Fellows always want to oblige you, but they don’t want to do the particular obligement that you happen to want--if I make myself clear. If you want to borrow a fiver, they will do any mortal thing you wish but lend it. Now it happens that, so far from wanting a fiver, I’ll give you one--or a ten-pound note, for that matter--if you will do this, don’t you know.” “Oh, if I did it at all, I wouldn’t take money for doing it.” “But I don’t want a fellow to work for love, don’t you know. I don’t believe in that. If I sell a picture I want my money for it--yes, by Jove, I do!” “If I did this, it would be entirely for love and for no other consideration. But I don’t think I would be acting fairly and honourably if I did it. I can’t explain to you why I think this; my whole wish is to do what you ask me, and yet I feel sure, if I were thoroughly honest, as I would like to be, I should at once say ‘No.’”