“I trust so.  I trust so, indeed.  Eighty thousand pounds!  And do you think I can raise such a sum as that at a week’s warning?”

“Indeed, I have no doubt as to your being able to do so:  it may be another question whether you are willing.”

“I am not—­I am not able,” said the libelled father.  “As you know well enough, the incumbrances on the property take more than a quarter of my income.”

“There can, nevertheless, be no doubt of your being able to have the money, and that at once, if you chose to go into the market for it.  I have no doubt but that Mr Jervis could get it for you at once at five per cent.”

“Four thousand a-year gone for ever from the property!—­and what security am I to have that the same sacrifice will not be again incurred, after another lapse of four years?”

“You can have no security, my lord, against my being in debt.  You can, however, have every security that you will not again pay my debts, in your own resolution.  I trust, however, that I have some experience to prevent my again falling into so disagreeable a predicament.  I think I have heard your Lordship say that you incurred some unnecessary expenses yourself in London, before your marriage!”

“I wish, Kilcullen, that you had never exceeded your income more than I did mine.  But it is no use talking any further on this subject.  I cannot, and I will not—­I cannot in justice either to myself or to you, borrow this money for you; nor, if I could, should I think it right to do so.”

“Then what the devil’s the use of talking about it so long?” said the dutiful son, hastily jumping up from the chair in which he had again sat down.  “Did you bring me down to Grey Abbey merely to tell me that you knew of my difficulties, and that you could do nothing to assist me?”

“Now, don’t put yourself into a passion—­pray don’t!” said the father, a little frightened by the sudden ebullition.  “If you’ll sit down, and listen to me, I’ll tell you what I propose.  I did not send for you here without intending to point out to you some method of extricating yourself from your present pecuniary embarrassment; and, if you have any wish to give up your course, of—­I must say, reckless profusion, and commence that upright and distinguished career, which I still hope to see you take, you will, I think, own that my plan is both a safer and a more expedient one than that which you have proposed.  It is quite time for you now to abandon the expensive follies of youth; and,”—­Lord Cashel was getting into a delightfully dignified tone, and felt himself prepared for a good burst of common-place eloquence; but his son looked impatient, and as he could not take such liberty with him as he could with Lord Ballindine, he came to the point at once, and ended abruptly by saying, “and get married.”

“For the purpose of allowing my wife to pay my debts?”

“Why, not exactly that; but as, of course, you could not marry any woman but a woman with a large fortune, that would follow as a matter of consequence.”