"My object," I went on, "is to entreat you to reconsider your
letter, and not to force me to abandon the just rights of your
niece, and of all who belong to her. Let me state the case to you
once more, and for the last time."
Mr. Fairlie shook his head and sighed piteously.
"This is heartless of you, Gilmore--very heartless," he said.
"Never mind, go on."
I put all the points to him carefully--I set the matter before him
in every conceivable light. He lay back in the chair the whole
time I was speaking with his eyes closed. When I had done he
opened them indolently, took his silver smelling-bottle from the
table, and sniffed at it with an air of gentle relish.
"Good Gilmore!" he said between the sniffs, "how very nice this is
of you! How you reconcile one to human nature!"
"Give me a plain answer to a plain question, Mr. Fairlie. I tell
you again, Sir Percival Glyde has no shadow of a claim to expect
more than the income of the money. The money itself if your niece
has no children, ought to be under her control, and to return to
her family. If you stand firm, Sir Percival must give way--he
must give way, I tell you, or he exposes himself to the base
imputation of marrying Miss Fairlie entirely from mercenary
motives.
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