A week gone by, patience failed, and a discussion took place as to whether my husband or Jack should go to “The Gables” and ask after Maimie. Jack then confessed rather penitently that he had already been, four days earlier, without asking our advice, and had been stiffly refused admission.
“Not wise, Jack,” my husband said; though of course Jack did not know, as we did, a certain little passage between Maimie and her stepfather, which made it advisable that Jack should not seem to be running after Maimie too solicitously. We did not suppose Churton would approve of Jack for her future husband. Probably he expected Maimie to marry what is called “well,” and to be in some way a means of gain to himself. Not that fathers—especially stepfathers—do generally gain much personally from a daughter’s wealthy marriage. But Churton was capable of such an expectation.
“No, I’m afraid it wasn’t wise,” Jack admitted regretfully. “Somehow, I have felt ashamed to speak of it.”
“They didn’t use the measles excuse again, I suppose?” said Cherry.
“No; the girl said Maimie and Uncle were both out, and would not be back till late, and her mistress wasn’t well enough for visitors. She had evidently been primed. I could do nothing with her.”
“One thing is certain,—Jack must not be the one to go again so soon,” I said. “Robert, I think it should be you this time.”
And so the matter was settled. My husband went next day, and we all awaited his return in a fever of anxiety, trying to laugh at one another for the same, yet feeling it none the less.
And at last my husband came back.
“Well,” he said, with a curious smile, “I have seen Maimie.”
“You have! I am glad,” I said; and a weight seemed to roll from my heart.