While this was going on in Uphill Lane something of the same kind was taking place at the Lowtown Parsonage. Parson John became aware that his nephew had been with the ladies at Uphill, and when the young man came in for lunch, he asked some question which introduced the subject. "You've told them of this fresh trouble, no doubt." "I didn't see Miss Marrable," said the Captain. "I don't know that Miss Marrable much signifies. You haven't asked Miss Marrable to be your wife." "I saw Mary, and I told her." "I hope you made no bones about it." "I don't know what you mean, sir." "I hope you told her that you two had had your little game of play, like two children, and that there must be an end of it." "No; I didn't tell her that." "That's what you have got to tell her in some kind of language, and the sooner you do it the better. Of course you can't marry her. You couldn't have done it if this money had been all right, and it's out of the question now. Bless my soul! how you would hate each other before six months were over. I can understand that for a strong fellow like you, when he's used to it, India may be a jolly place enough." "It's a great deal more than I can understand." "But for a poor man with a wife and family;--oh dear! it must be very bad indeed. And neither of you have ever been used to that kind of thing." "I have not," said the Captain. "Nor has she. That old lady up there is not rich, but she is as proud as Lucifer, and always lives as though the whole place belonged to her. She's a good manager, and she don't run in debt;--but Mary Lowther knows no more of roughing it than a duchess." "I hope I may never have to teach her." "I trust you never may. It's a very bad lesson for a young man to have to teach a young woman. Some women die in the learning. Some won't learn it at all. Others do, and become dirty and rough themselves. Now, you are very particular about women." "I like to see them well turned out." "What would you think of your own wife, nursing perhaps a couple of babies, dressed nohow when she gets up in the morning, and going on in the same way till night? That's the kind of life with officers who marry on their pay. I don't say anything against it. If the man likes it,--or rather if he's able to put up with it,--it may be all very well; but you couldn't put up with it. Mary's very nice now, but you'd come to be so sick of her, that you'd feel half like cutting her throat,--or your own." "It would be the latter for choice, sir."