'Beatrice,' said Frank, rushing suddenly into his sister's room, 'I want you to do me one especial favour.' This was three or four days after he had spoken to Mary Thorne. Since that time he had spoken to none of his family on the subject; but he was only postponing from day to day the task of telling his father. He had now completed his round of visits to the kennel, master huntsman, and stables of the county hunt, and was at liberty to attend to his own affairs. So he had decided on speaking to the squire that very day; but he first made his request to his sister.
'I want you to do me one especial favour.' The day for Beatrice's marriage had now been fixed, and it was not to be very distant. Mr Oriel had urged that their honeymoon trip would lose half its delights if they did not take advantage of the fine weather; and Beatrice had nothing to allege in answer. The day had just been fixed, and when Frank ran into her room with his special request, she was not in a humour to refuse him anything.
'If you wish me to be at your wedding, you must do it.'
'Wish you to be there! You must be there, of course. Oh, Frank! what do you mean? I'll do anything you ask; if it is not to go to the moon, or anything of that sort.'
Frank was too much in earnest to joke. 'You must have Mary for one of your bridesmaids,' he said. 'Now, mind; there may be some difficulty, but you must insist on it. I know what has been going on; but it is not to be borne that she should be excluded on such a day as that. You that have been like sisters all your lives till a year ago.'
'But, Frank--'
'Now, Beatrice, don't have any buts; say that you will do it, and it will be done: I am sure Oriel will approve, and so will my father.'
'But, Frank, you won't hear me.'
'Not if you make objections; I have set my heart on your doing it.'
'But I had set my heart on the same thing.'
'Well?'
'And I went to Mary on purpose; and told her just as you tell me now, that she must come. I meant to make mamma understand that I could not be happy unless it were so; but Mary positively refused.'
'Refused! What did she say?'
'I could not tell you what she said; indeed, it would not be right if I could; but she positively declined. She seemed to feel, that after all that had happened, she never could come to Greshamsbury again.'
'Fiddlestick!'
'But, Frank, those are her feelings; and, to tell the truth, I could not combat them. I know she is not happy; but time will cure that. And, to tell you the truth, Frank--'
'It was before I came back that you asked her, was it not?'
'Yes; just the day before you came, I think.'
'Well, it's altered now. I have seen her since that.'
'Have you Frank?'
'What do you take me for? Of course, I have. The very first day I went to her. And now, Beatrice, you may believe me or not, as you like; but if I ever marry, I shall marry Mary Thorne; and if she ever marries, I think she may marry me. At any rate, I have her promise. And now, you cannot be surprised that I should wish her to be at your wedding; or that I should declare, that if she is absent, I will be absent. I don't want any secrets, and you may tell my mother if you like it--and all the De Courcys too, for anything I care.'
Frank had ever been used to command his sisters: and they, especially Beatrice, had ever been used to obey. On this occasion, she was well inclined to do so, if she only knew how. She again remembered how Mary had once sworn to be at her wedding, to be near her, and to touch her--even though all the blood of the De Courcys should be crowded before the altar railings.
'I should be happy that she should be there; but what am I to do, Frank, if she refuses? I have asked her, and she has refused.'
'Go to her again; you need not have any scruples with her. Do not I tell you she will be your sister? Not come here again to Greshamsbury!
Why, I tell you that she will be living here while you are living there at the parsonage, for years and years to come.'
Beatrice promised that she would go to Mary again, and that she would endeavour to talk her mother over if Mary would consent to come. But she could not yet make herself believe that Mary Thorne would ever be mistress of Greshamsbury. It was so indispensably necessary that Frank should marry money! Besides, what were these horrid rumours which were now becoming rife as to Mary's birth; rumours more horrid than any which had yet been heard.
Augusta had said hardly more than the truth when she spoke of her father being broken-hearted by his debts. His troubles were becoming almost too many for him; and Mr Gazebee, though no doubt he was an excellent man of business, did not seem to lessen them. Mr Gazebee, indeed, was continually pointing out how much he owed, and in what a quagmire of difficulties he had entangled himself. Now, to do Mr Umbleby justice, he had never made himself disagreeable in this manner.
Mr Gazebee had been doubtless right, when he declared that Sir Louis Scatcherd had not himself the power to take any steps hostile to the squire; but Sir Louis had also been right, when he boasted that, in spite of his father's will, he could cause others to move in the matter.
Others did move, and were moving, and it began to be understood that a moiety, at least, of the remaining Greshamsbury property must be sold.
Even this, however, would by no means leave the squire in undisturbed possession of the other moiety. And thus, Mr Gresham was nearly broken-hearted.
Frank had now been at home a week, and his father had not as yet spoken to him about the family troubles; nor had a word as yet been said between them as to Mary Thorne. It had been agreed that Frank should go away for twelve months, in order that he might forget her. He had been away the twelvemonth, and had now returned, not having forgotten her.
