Tor felt much disposed to bid him mind his own business, but a glance into the pale, eager face deterred him. He saw that the blind man’s whole soul was in the subject he had propounded, and that a very little would agitate him profoundly, perhaps dangerously. His promise to Roma rose up before him. He would not go from his word to her, yet the position was distinctly embarrassing. ‘Really, sir, I have had so much to think of since I came to England, that I have given hardly any thought to the subject you name.’ ‘Ah, indeed; yes, I suppose a sudden accession of property does bring many cares with it. Still, you must be aware that it is almost impossible for a man in your position to remain long unmarried. It does not do; his duty to society demands that he shall take a wife. Your own sense of the fitness of things must, I think, tell you that.’ ‘I dare say you may be right, but I am no judge in such matters. Maud and my aunt keep house and entertain guests, and I fancied that was all that was needful; but no doubt you know best.’ ‘Yes, Philip; I suppose I do know more of the world than you. I have been thinking a great deal of you and of your future. I like you, Philip, and I trust you. I would give much to see you well settled in life, with a woman who would make you really happy. I believe that my Roma could do that; and I could trust her to you without a doubt and without a fear.’ ‘You pay me a high compliment, Mr. Meredith. I am obliged by your good opinion.’ ‘Not at all—not at all. My friend Philip Debenham’s son must always stand next to my own child in my affections. Do you know, boy, that I owe all my prosperity in life to him?’ ‘No, I did not know it.’ ‘I will tell you the story—then you will perhaps the better understand the wish which has grown up in my heart. ‘I am well born, Philip, and I was well educated; but misfortune fell upon our family, and I was left alone in the world, without money and without a profession; for I had been brought up a gentleman at large. Art was my only resource; Italy my only field. I went to Italy and painted, and starved there for many long, weary years. I could not sell my pictures; but I found I had skill in modelling, and I got some poor work to do in a sculptor’s studio. My talent in that line became noticed, and I rose, by slow degrees, to be of use to my master in his greater works; but before I had attained the fame he prophesied for me, he died, and I was turned adrift once more.