"I don't particularly care," said Nick.
"Your marriage will assist you; you can't help that," Mr. Carteret went on. "But I should like you to be under obligations not quite so heavy."
"Oh, I'm so obliged to her for caring for me!"
"That the rest doesn't count? Certainly it's nice of her to like you. But why shouldn't she? Other people do."
"Some of them make me feel as if I abused it," said Nick, looking at his host. "That is, they don't make me, but I feel it," he added, correcting himself.
"I have no son," said Mr. Carteret. "Sha'n't you be very kind to her? " he pursued. "You'll gratify her ambition."
"Oh, she thinks me cleverer than I am."
"That's because she's in love," hinted the old gentleman, as if this were very subtle. "However, you must be as clever as we think you. If you don't prove so—" And he paused, with his folded hands.
"Well, if I don't?" asked Nick.
"Oh, it won't do—it won't do," said Mr. Carteret, in a tone his companion was destined to remember afterwards: "I say I have no son," he continued; "but if I had had one he should have risen high."
"It's well for me such a person doesn't exist. I shouldn't easily have found a wife."
"He should have gone to the altar with a little money in his pocket."
"That would have been the least of his advantages, sir."
"When are you to be married?" Mr. Carteret asked.
