Within that year or two your uncle whose heir you were has married and bred a son, and now you are but a gentleman of good name, and little to float it on.

That big house of yours must go to the hammer, Christopher.

You'll never stow a bride in it." "Ah! I thought as much.

Christopher Harflete with the promise of the Lesborough lands was one man; Christopher Harflete without them is another--in your eyes.

Yet, sir, I hold you foolish.