'"Yes—oh yes, madam. What is it? What did Sir Harry Mountfort mean by saying that I should have a splendid position at court some day? And what did——?" Here I stopped abruptly, for there were certainly tears in mamma's eyes, though she tried to smile, as she told me to bring my stool to her side, and she would tell me all about it.
'"You heard us talking about the Earl of Desmond, Frances," she said, smoothing my hair softly back from my forehead as I leant against her. "He is a boy of about fourteen, an orphan, and Sir Harry Mountfort is his guardian. Sir Harry is a great friend of your father's; and for various reasons which you would not understand, even if I told them to you, he has proposed that a marriage shall take place between you and his ward. Your father has consented; and he brought Sir Harry down here to-day to inform me of their plans, and to make various arrangements which are necessary, before the wedding can take place."
'"Wedding! Then I am to be married now?—soon?—not wait till I am grown up?" I asked eagerly.
'"I believe so; before very long, at any rate," said my mother. And I sat silent, trying to take it all in, for at least two whole minutes. Confused and surprised as I felt, I was not quite so much taken aback as Silvia would be if her uncle informed her that a like event was to happen to her; for I had often heard mamma talk about the little Princess Mary, the sister of the reigning king, Charles II., who had been married when she was only eleven years old.
'Moreover, my own mother's wedding had taken place when she was but fifteen, while a little cousin of hers had been a bride at nine.
'"Married to the Earl of Desmond!" I repeated slowly. "Then, shall I have to manage a house, and have keys, and settle the dinners, and order the servants, like you, mamma?"
'"Not for a great many years to come, I hope, Frances. I don't think you are quite fit for that at present, are you?"
'"I could order dinner, I think," said I; a momentary vision coming across me of myself in a sweeping gown just like mamma's, with mittens on my arms, a large apron with pockets in it, a chatelaine hanging by my side, and jingling an immense bunch of keys while I discoursed to the maids about bleaching the linen on the bowling-green, or to the men about the brewing; or perhaps gave away medicine, food, and advice to the poor people on Lord Desmond's estates. I gave it up with a little sigh, for I had a great desire to be considered a woman; and then, a fresh view of the case suddenly occurring to me, I cried: "Oh mamma, what shall I be called when I am married? Shall I be Lady Desmond, just as you are Lady Dalrymple?"
'"You will be Frances Carey Countess of Desmond, of higher rank than I am, my child. I am only the wife of a baronet: you will be the wife of an earl."
'This piece of grandeur filled my foolish little head with such a sense of elation, that I was on the point of running away directly to tell the news to nurse and my brothers; but a glance at mamma's face stopped me. "Don't you like my being Countess of Desmond, mamma?" I ventured to ask, a sort of vague fear coming into my heart for the first time. "They won't take me away from you, will they?" I took hold of her hand and held it very tight.