"Why, I see no reason--none; that is, of course, with the reservations that are--that are always assumed--I don't see any."
Varbarriere was answering plausibly, politely, smiling. But it was not like last night, when for a few transient moments he had seemed moved from his equilibrium. There was no emotion now. It was diplomatic benignity. Still it was something. Here was his foe willing to hear reason.
"It was just in my mind--Dives and I talking--I think I've seen some signs of liking between the young people--I mean your nephew and Beatrix."
"Indeed!" interrupted Varbarriere, prolonging the last syllable after his wont, and raising his thick eyebrows in very naturally acted wonder.
"Well, yes--only a sort of conjecture, you know--haven't you?"
"Well, I--ha, ha! If I ever observed anything, it hasn't remained in my mind. But she is so lovely--Miss Marlowe--that I should not wonder. And you think--"
"I think," said Sir Jekyl, supplying the pause, "if it be so, we ought not to stand in the way; and here's Dives, who thinks so too."
"I--in fact, my brother, Jekyl, mentioned it, of course, to me--it would be a very happy mode of--of making matters--a--_happy_; and--and that, I think, was all that passed," said Dives, thus unexpectedly called into the debate.
"This view comes on me quite by surprise. That the young fellow should adore at such a shrine is but to suppose him mortal," said Varbarriere, with something of his French air. "But--but you know the young lady--that's quite another thing--quite. Young ladies, you know, are not won all in a moment."
"No, of course. We are so far all in the clouds. But I wished to say so much to you; and I prefer talking face to face, in a friendly way, to sending messages through an attorney."
"A thousand thanks. I value the confidence, I assure you--yes, much better--quite right. And--and I shall be taking my leave to-morrow morning--business, my dear Sir Jekyl--and _greatly_ regret it; but I've outstayed my time very considerably."
"Very sorry too--and only too happy if you could prolong it a little. _Could_ you, do you think?"
Varbarriere shook his head, and thanked him with a grave smile again--but it was impossible.
"It is a matter--such an arrangement, should it turn out practicable--on which we should reflect and perhaps consult a little. It sounds not unpromisingly, however; we can talk again perhaps, if you allow it, before I go."