frocked, say a damned lucky dog if he succeeded in marrying that girl Imogene."
"What?" cried the squire.
"Of course," said the Doctor, "you mustn't go entirely by what I say, because I hold myself very seriously gifted in the judging of attractive women."
"And so do I, sir. I know she's attractive. A damned fine, upstanding young woman, and if she were even a county pauper I might stretch a point and accept her, but beauty comes last on my list."
"But Imogene possesses all the other necessaries required. Rich she is, and very rich, though she doesn't know it, and although her mother was but a dancer in a Raratonga gambling saloon, she was descended direct from an Incan princess, and as you said 'pooh-pooh' to me, sir, why, I'll say 'pooh' back, sir: 'pooh' to your Kentish ladies of quality, for when Imogene comes into her own, why, damme, she could chuck their fortunes on to every horse in the village steeplechase."
"Is she so very wealthy—that girl at the Ship Inn? Well, perhaps I am wrong in saying that the match is so very uneven. Perhaps I am."
"Yes," went on the vicar, "there is just the possibility that it might be brought to a successful issue, though if you'll excuse my saying so, you are so very tactless at times, Squire."
"What do you mean?" cried the squire hotly. "I am none too sure that I should care for my son to marry
