"Two or three thousand a year! It is true--it must be true. She has
practically admitted it."
He met his son, who was, in fact, waiting for him.
"Come for a walk, Mike," said the old man. "Give me your arm, my boy.
I have been busy over your affairs during the morning, and the fact is,
that woman's sweet champagne has got into my head. I can't imagine how
it is that women never know the difference between dry champagne and
sweet. I shall have a bilious attack after this, as sure as fate."
"Where in the world have you been, dad?" said the lieutenant, looking
with apprehension at his father's flushed face.
"Why, my boy," said the Major, "I have been eating the most abominable
lunch I ever tasted in the whole course of my life at Mrs Fortescue's."
"At Mrs Fortescue's?" said the young man. "You surely have not been
there about--about Florence and me!"
"Yes, I have, Mike, and you can't blame me; and I have got the most
satisfactory information for you. The girl's income will run into
thousands, my boy--yes, into thousands." Now, of course, Lieutenant
Reid was delighted to hear this, but he felt all the same annoyed at his
father's lack of circumspection in going to see Mrs Fortescue.
"The news will be all over the place," he said. "That woman is the most
inveterate gossip in Langdale. She will tell all her friends just what
has happened, and if Flo chooses to give me up, you will be the one to
blame."
"Oh, she won't give you up. She loves you dearly, my boy; and no other,
no other," said the Major. "I really congratulate you, Mike; and if
there is any possible way in which I can help you at the present moment,
you have but to command it. Some thousands a year! Three, four, five--
I should not be the least surprised if it was five thousand a year. The
girls have been brought up as if they might expect that income at the
very least. You're a lucky dog--a very lucky dog, Mike."