“Now, Doctor, do you mean to tell me that you would have married your young ladies the first young man that came and asked for them?”
“I never had much money to give my girls, and the men who came happened to have means of their own.”
“But if you’d had it, and if they hadn’t, do you mean to tell me you’d never have asked a question?”
“A man should never boast that in any circumstances of his life he would have done just what he ought to do, much less when he has never been tried. But if the lover be what he ought to be in morals and all that kind of thing, the girl’s father ought not to refuse to help them. You may be sure of this—that Polly means to have her own way. Providence has blessed you with a girl that knows her own mind.” On receipt of this compliment Mr. Peppercorn scratched his head. “I wish I could say as much for my friend Greenmantle. You two are in a boat together, and ought to make up your minds as to what you should do.” Peppercorn resolved that he would remember the phrase about the boat, and began to think that it might be good that he should see Mr. Greenmantle. “What on earth is it you two want? It is not as though you were dukes, and looking for proper alliances for two ducal spinsters.”
Now there had no doubt been a certain amount of intended venom in this. Dr. Freeborn knew well the weak points in Mr. Greenmantle’s character, and was determined to hit him where he was weakest. He did not see the difference between the banker and the brewer nearly so clearly as did Mr. Greenmantle. He would probably have said that the line of demarcation came just below himself. At any rate, he thought that he would be doing best for Emily’s interest if he made her father feel that all the world was on her side. Therefore it was that he so contrived that Mr. Peppercorn should pay his visit to the bank.
On his return to the brewery the first person that Peppercorn saw standing in the doorway of his own little sanctum was Jack Hollycombe. “What is it you’re wanting?” he asked, gruffly.
“I was just desirous of saying a few words to yourself, Mr. Peppercorn.”
“Well, here I am!” There were two or three brewers and porters about the place, and Jack did not feel that he could plead his cause well in their presence. “What is it you’ve got to say—because I’m busy? There ain’t no malt wanted for the next week; but you know that, and as we stand at present you can send it in, without any more words, as it’s needed.”
“It ain’t about malt or anything of that kind.”
“Then I don’t know what you’ve got to say. I’m very busy just at present, as I told you.”
“You can spare me five minutes inside.”
“No, I can’t.” But then Peppercorn resolved that neither would it suit him to carry on the conversation respecting his daughter in the presence of the workmen, and he thought that he perceived that Jack Hollycombe would be prepared to do so if he were driven. “Come in if you will,” he said; “we might as well have it out.” Then he led the way into the room, and shut the door as soon as Jack had followed him. “Now what is it you have got to say? I suppose it’s about that young woman down at my house.”
“It is, Mr. Peppercorn.”
“Then let me tell you that the least said will be soonest mended. She’s not for you—with my consent. And to tell you the truth, I think that you have a mortal deal of brass coming to ask for her. You’ve no edication suited to her edication—and what’s wus, no money.” Jack had shown symptoms of anger when his deficient education had been thrown in his teeth, but had cheered up somewhat when the lack of money had been insisted upon. “Them two things are so against you that you haven’t a leg to stand on. My word! what do you expect that I should say when such a one as you comes a-courting to a girl like that?”
“I did perhaps think more of what she might say.”
“I dare say; because you knew her to be a fool like yourself. I suppose you think yourself to be a very handsome young man.”
“I think she’s a very handsome young woman. As to myself I never asked the question.”
“That’s all very well. A man can always say as much as that for himself. The fact is, you’re not going to have her.”
“That’s just what I want to speak to you about, Mr. Peppercorn.”
“You’re not going to have her. Now I’ve spoken my intentions, and you may as well take one word as a thousand, I’m not a man as was ever known to change my mind when I’d made it up in such a matter as this.”
“She’s got a mind too, Mr. Peppercorn.”
“She have, no doubt. She have a mind and so have you. But you haven’t either of you got the money. The money is here,” and Mr. Peppercorn slapped his breeches pocket. “I’ve had to do with earning it, and I mean to have to do with giving it away. To me there is no idea of honesty at all in a chap like you coming and asking a girl to marry you just because you know that she’s to have a fortune.”
“That’s not my reason.”
“It’s uncommon like it. Now you see there’s somebody else that’s got
