That Unfortunate Marriage Volume I Part 24

"Yours very truly,

"P. DORMER-SMITH."

"You see that alters the case, Jo," said Mrs. Dobbs, when he had finished reading the letter.

Jo nodded thoughtfully, and rubbed his nose. "Of course, what you want, Sarah, is for the child to be happy. That's the main thing," said he.

"Of course I want her to be happy. And I want her to have her rights,"

answered Mrs. Dobbs, setting her lips firmly.

"Ah! Yes, to be sure! Her rights, eh?"

"My son-in-law brought no good to any of us in himself. If his name can do any good to his daughter, she ought to have the benefit of it--and she shall."

"Ay, ay. Her rights, eh? To be sure. Only--only it ain't always quite easy to know what a person's rights are, is it?"

"I know well enough what May's rights are," answered Mrs. Dobbs sharply.

"Nor yet it ain't quite easy to be sure whether they'd enjoy their rights when they got 'em," pursued Jo, with a thoughtful air. "Everybody likes to be happy. There can be no manner of doubt about _that_. And somehow the dukes and d.u.c.h.esses don't seem to be enough to make Miranda quite--not _quite_ happy, humph?"

"I wonder you should confess so much of your dear aristocracy!" returned Mrs. Dobbs with some heat.

"Why, you see, Sarah, it may be--I only say it _may_ be--that the way Miranda has been brought up, living here in the holidays in such a simple kind of style, and all that, makes her feel not altogether at home among these tip-top folks."

"If you mean she isn't good enough for them, that's nonsense; downright nonsense. And I wonder at a man with your brains talking such stuff! If you mean they're not good enough for her, that's another pair of shoes.

As to manners--why, do you imagine that that aunt of hers, who--though she _is_ a fool, is a well-born fool, and a well-bred one--would be taking May about, presenting her at Court, and introducing her to the grandest society, if the child didn't do her credit? Not she! I'm astonished at you, Jo! I thought you knew the world a little bit better than that."

Mrs. Dobbs leant back in her chair, and fanned her flushed face with her handkerchief. Mr. Weatherhead, having smoked his pipe out, put it in its case, and then sat silent, slowly stroking his nose, and casting deprecating glances at his hostess. At length the latter resumed, in a calmer tone, "But May's future is what I've got to think of. I'm an old woman. I can leave her next to nothing when I die. I want her to marry.

All women ought to marry. n.o.body in my own walk of life would suit her.

And what gentleman fit to match with her was ever likely to come and look for her in my parlour in Friar's Lane? You ought to know all about it, Jo Weatherhead. We've gone over the whole ground together often enough."

They had done so. But Jo Weatherhead understood very well that his old friend was talking now, not to convince him, but herself. "Well, Sarah,"

he said, "there seems a good chance for May to marry well, according to this good lady. 'Princely fortune,' she says. That sounds grand, don't it?"

"Ah! And it isn't a few thousands that Mrs. Dormer-Smith would call a princely fortune."

"Not a few thousands you think, eh, Sarah? Tens of thousands I shouldn't wonder, humph?" And Mr. Weatherhead pursed up his mouth, and poked forward his nose eagerly.

"Not a doubt of it."

"Bless my stars! To think of our little Miranda!--and her aunt says that May is disposed to look favourably on the gentleman."

"So she says. But I can tell you that May doesn't care a b.u.t.ton for him at present."

"Lord! How do you know, Sarah?"

"How do I know? That's so like a man! No girl in love would give up the chance of meeting her lover, as May wants to give it up. If she'd rather come to Oldchester than go to Scotland, it is because--so far, at any rate--she doesn't care a b.u.t.ton for him."

"I never thought of that. But perhaps, Sarah, she doesn't know that he is to be invited."

Mrs. Dobbs seemed struck by this remark. "Well now, that's an idea, Jo!"

said she, nodding her head. "It may be so. They seem to have had the sense not to talk to her about the matter. May's just the kind of girl to fling up her heels and break away, if she suspected any scheming to make a fine match for her. But she might come to care for him in time.

There's no reason in nature why a rich man shouldn't be nice enough to be fallen in love with. And by his taking to May--and she without a penny--I'm inclined to think well of the young man."

After some further consideration it was agreed that Mrs. Dobbs should write and propose a middle term: in the interval between her aunt's departure for Carlsbad, and the date of her invitation to Glengowrie, May should come down to Oldchester, on condition that she afterwards paid her visit to the d.u.c.h.ess. This arrangement would be a joy to Mrs.

Dobbs, would satisfy May's affectionate longing, and could not prejudice the girl's future prospects. A letter to May was written, as well as one to Mrs. Dormer-Smith. This letter was very short, and may as well be given.

"DEAR MRS. DORMER-SMITH,

"I have to acknowledge yours of the 5th. I agree with you that it would be a pity for my grand-daughter not to accept the invitation you speak of. Some good may come of it, and I do not think that any harm can come. If May spends the three or four weeks with me after you start for the Continent, I will undertake for her to meet the lady who is to take charge of her to Scotland, at any place that may be agreed upon. I wrote to May by this post, and she will tell you what I propose. With regard to her father's address, I have had none for some time past, except, 'Post-Office, Brussels.' This much I shall tell her, as I think she has a right to know it. You need not disturb yourself about her writing to her father, as I think, from what I know of Captain Cheffington, that he is not likely to answer her letter.

"I am, dear Mrs. Dormer-Smith,

"Yours truly,

"SARAH DOBBS."

The proposal was accepted, and within a fortnight after the despatch of this letter, May Cheffington was in Oldchester once more.

END OF VOL. I.