"There you are wrong, John, on the other side," said Buckhurst; "for I can
assure you, Miss Caroline Percy is not one of your young ladies who would
marry any body. And even though she might like me, I am not at all sure
that she would marry me--for obedience to the best of fathers might
interfere."

"There's the point," said John; "for thereby hangs the fortune; and it
would be a _deuced_ thing to have the girl without the fortune."

"Not so _deuced_ a thing to me as you think," said Buckhurst, laughing;
"for, poor as I am, I can assure you the fortune is not my object--I am not
a mercenary dog."

"By-the-bye," cried John, "now you talk of dogs, I wish to Heaven above,
you had not given away that fine puppy of mine to that foolish old man, who
never was out a shooting in his days--the dog's just as much thrown away as
if you had drowned him. Now, do you know, if I had had _the making_ of that
puppy--"

"Puppy!" exclaimed Buckhurst: "is it possible you can be thinking of
a puppy, John, when I am talking to you of what is of so much
consequence?--when the whole happiness of my life is at stake?"

"Stake!--Well, but what can I do more!" said John: "have not I been
standing here this half hour with my gun in my hand this fine day,
listening to you prosing about I don't know what?"

"That's the very thing I complain of--that you do not know what: a pretty
brother!" said Buckhurst.