"Don't you think you may have misunderstood him?" she reiterated, anxiously. "I'm afraid he is rather given to say more—or to appear to say more—than he means sometimes."
Rachel blushingly testified to the good faith of her fiancé, by references to the ring for which her finger had already been measured, and to the impending interview at her uncle's office.
"I should never have thought of it of myself Aunt Elizabeth," she said meekly.
Mrs. Hardy sank into an easy chair, and unbuttoned her furs, as if to give her bosom room to swell with the pride and satisfaction that possessed her. Then, looking up at the slender figure on the hearthrug, at the candid innocent face of the child who had been bequeathed to her love and care, a maternal instinct asserted itself.
"My dear," she said, "you are very young, and this is a serious step. You must take care not to run into it heedlessly. Do you really feel that you would be happy with Mr. Kingston? He is much older than you are, you know."
Rachel thought of the new house, and of the diamonds, and of all her lover's tributes to her worth and beauty.
"Yes, I think so, aunt. He is a very nice man. He is very kind to me."
"He has lived so long as a bachelor, that he has got into bachelor ways," Mrs. Hardy reluctantly proceeded. "He has been rather—a—gay, so they say. I doubt if you will find him domesticated, my dear."
"I shall not wish him to stay always at home with me," replied the girl, with a fine glow of generosity. "And I do not mind tobacco-smoke, nor latchkeys, nor things of that sort. And if he is fond of his club, I hope he will go there as often as he likes. I shall not try to deprive him of his pleasures, when he will give me so many of my own. And, you know, dear aunt, I shall be quite close to you; I can never be lonely while I am able to run in and out here."
Mrs. Hardy was reassured. This was the pliant, sweet-natured little creature who would adapt herself kindly to any husband—who was not, of course, an absolutely outrageous brute.