“I think so; he has always seemed to like you, has he not?”
“Yes, but——”
“I know what you mean, Polly; and it would be sheer hypocrisy for me not to acknowledge what every one knows, that my father is a very proud man and that he is likely to have ambitious hopes for his son. But are they not likely to be realized by our marriage? When you have taken up your abode in the old Izard mansion, you will be quite an eligible match even for Squire Unwin’s son.” A tender, yet half-sarcastic smile took the edge off these words, and showed the little maiden how dearly she was loved. Whereupon she shook her pretty head.
“But I am so lacking in accomplishments, Clarke, and he so admires an accomplished woman. Why, I barely know one language well, and your stepmother, I hear, speaks three.”
“All of which she will teach you, dear. Accomplishments are easily acquired. In five years you will be a model of learning and culture.”
She laughed. “I look like it, do I not? See. I have not even bought myself a new dress. I have had other things to think of.”
“I like you in that rose pink gingham, but my father has a great fondness for white. Haven’t you a white dress, Polly?”
“You know I have,” she pouted. “Didn’t you tell me last Sunday that——”
“Ah, I remember. Yes, yes, put that dress on and come round by the front gate; I will be there to meet you.”
“But Mrs. Unwin? You have not told me whether she is likely to approve. I should not want her to greet me coldly.”