“I am glad she is a lady.”
“She is also very clever. She has been to college and taken high honors, a thing I have not done.”
“You might have done and overdone that caper; you were too sensible to try it. Well, I’m glad that part of the family is looking up. They had the right stuff in them, and it is a good thing for families to dwell together in unity. We have King David’s word for that. My observation leads me to think it is far better for families to dwell apart, in unity. They seldom get along comfortably together.”
Then Ethel related many pleasant, piquant scenes between the two families at Monk-Rawdon, and especially that one in which the room of the first Tyrrel had been opened and his likeness restored to its place in the family gallery. It touched the old lady to tears, and she murmured, “Poor lad! Poor lad! I wonder if he knows! I wonder if he knows!”
The crucial point of Ethel’s revelations had not yet been revealed, but Madam was now in a gentle mood, and Ethel took the opportunity to introduce her to Tyrrel Rawdon. She was expecting and waiting for this topic, but stubbornly refused to give Ethel any help toward bringing it forward. At last, the girl felt a little anger at her pretended indifference, and said, “I suppose Fred Mostyn told you about Mr. Tyrrel Rawdon, of California?”
“Tyrrel Rawdon, of California! Pray, who may he be?”
“The son of Colonel Rawdon, of the United States Army.”
“Oh, to be sure! Well, what of him?”
“I am going to marry him.”
“I shall see about that.”