“Ay, ay,” said Bradley Headstone, “but you spoke of a mere brother. Now, the case I have supposed would be a much stronger case; because an admirer, a husband, would form the connection voluntarily, besides being obliged to proclaim it: which a brother is not. After all, you know, it must be said of you that you couldn’t help yourself: while it would be said of him, with equal reason, that he could.”

“That’s true, sir. Sometimes since Lizzie was left free by father’s death, I have thought that such a young woman might soon acquire more than enough to pass muster. And sometimes I have even thought that perhaps Miss Peecher⁠—”

“For the purpose, I would advise not Miss Peecher,” Bradley Headstone struck in with a recurrence of his late decision of manner.

“Would you be so kind as to think of it for me, Mr. Headstone?”