In addition to his
expenses he was to be conveniently paid, and I found myself able to
help him, for the usual fat book, to a plausible arrangement with
the usual fat publisher. I naturally inferred that his obvious
desire to make a little money was not unconnected with the prospect
of a union with Gwendolen Erme. I was aware that her mother's
opposition was largely addressed to his want of means and of
lucrative abilities, but it so happened that, on my saying the last
time I saw him something that bore on the question of his
separation from our young lady, he brought out with an emphasis
that startled me: "Ah I'm not a bit engaged to her, you know!"
"Not overtly," I answered, "because her mother doesn't like you.
But I've always taken for granted a private understanding."
"Well, there WAS one. But there isn't now." That was all he said
save something about Mrs. Erme's having got on her feet again in
the most extraordinary way--a remark pointing, as I supposed, the
moral that private understandings were of little use when the
doctor didn't share them. What I took the liberty of more closely
inferring was that the girl might in some way have estranged him.
Well, if he had taken the turn of jealousy for instance it could
scarcely be jealousy of me. In that case--over and above the
absurdity of it--he wouldn't have gone away just to leave us
together.
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