"Me! at my age? No; why didn't YOU marry her? You know she fancies you. The moment you found Grace married, you ought to have secured this girl, and lived with me; the house is big enough for you all."
"It is not so big as your heart, sir," said Henry. "But pray don't speak to me of love or marriage either."
"Why should I? The milk is spilt; it is no use crying now. Let us go and dress for dinner. Curse the world--it is one disappointment."
Little himself was vexed, but he determined to put a good face on it, and to be very kind to his good friend Jael.
She did not appear at dinner, and when the servants had retired, he said, "Come now, let us make the best of it. Mother, if you don't mind, I will settle five thousand pounds upon her and her children.
He is a spendthrift, I hear, and as poor as Job."
Mrs. Little stared at her son. "Why, she has refused him!"
Loud exclamations of surprise and satisfaction.
"A fine fright you have given us. You said 'Yes.'"
"Well, that meant he had proposed. You know, Guy, I had told you he would: I saw it in his eye. So I observed, in a moment, he HAD, and I said 'Yes.'"
"Then why doesn't she come down to dinner?"
"He has upset her. It is the old story: he cried to her, and told her he had been wild, and misconducted himself, all because he had never met a woman he could really love and respect; and then he begged her, and implored her, and said his fate depended on her."
"But she was not caught with that chaff; so why does she not come and receive the congratulations of the company on her escape?"
"Because she is far too delicate;" then, turning to her son, "and perhaps, because she can't help comparing the manly warmth and loving appreciation of Mr. Richard Raby, with the cold indifference and ingratitude of others."
"Oh," said Henry, coloring, "if that is her feeling, she will accept him next time."
"Next time!" roared Raby. "There shall be no next time. I have given the scamp fair play, quite against my own judgment. He has got his answer now, and I won't have the girl tormented with him any more. I trust that to you, Edith."
Mrs. Little promised him **** and Jael should not meet again, in Raby Hall at least.
That evening she drew her son apart and made an earnest appeal to him.
"So much for her spite against you, Henry. You told her to decline Richard Raby, and so she declined him. Spite, indeed! The gentle pique of a lovely, good girl, who knows her value, though she is too modest to show it openly. Well, Henry, you have lost her a husband, and she has given you one more proof of affection. Don't build the mountain of ingratitude any higher: do pray take the cure that offers, and make your mother happy, as well as yourself, my son."
In this strain she continued, and used all her art, her influence, her affection, till at last, with a weary, heart-broken sigh, he yielded as far as this: he said that, if it could once be made clear to him there was no hope of his ever marrying Grace Carden he would wed Jael Dence at once.
Then he ordered his trap, and drove sullenly home, while Mrs.
Little, full of delight, communicated her triumph to Jael Dence, and told her about the five thousand pounds, and was as enthusiastic in praise of Henry to Jael, as she had been of Jael to Henry.
Meantime he drove back to Hillsborough, more unhappy than ever, and bitter against himself for yielding, even so far, to gratitude and maternal influence.
It was late when he reached home. He let himself in with a latch-key, and went into his room for a moment.
A letter lay on the table, with no stamp on it: he took it up. It contained but one line; that line made his heart leap:
"News of G. C. RANSOME."
