"And yet her father was a poor, maimed, one-armed man after all, not at all like a soldier. I often wondered how Baby, poor child, could love him!"
Juvenal evidently thought that a son of Mars should, literally and of necessity, be a man of arms. "But what's to be done with Minnie?" he uttered thoughtfully. "It would be very dreadful were she to marry the poor curate, or even the lawyer; for her own fortune is a mere trifle. Almost all her mother's portion was spent in paying off Dalzell's debts. I am living, and am obliged to live, quite up to my income; her aunts can give her nothing until their death. What is to be done, Mrs. Gillett? pray, advise me how to act?"
"I'd lock her up," whispered Gillett, "and not let her see any one else."
"But myself?" he asked; "what good would that do?"
"No, not you—the squire. Don't let her go about with her aunts. One wants the lawyer to have her; t'other, the parson. Lock her up; it's just the way to tame a high spirit, and make her like the man!"
"Well, so I've thought too, Mrs. Gillett, but there would be a dreadful outcry were I to attempt it. How is it to be done?"
"Well, give her, say a month, to decide; and if she don't say Yes, then do it, and she'll soon come to. You are her guardian, and have a right to know what's best for her."
"So I will! so I will! your reasoning is most excellent; but don't give a hint to my sisters, or I shall have my scheme frustrated."
"Not for the world, sir; and I again beg of you not to name my advice to any one, or I shall lose all the confidence of the others."
"Rest perfectly satisfied, Mrs. Gillett; I have too sincere a respect for your excellent counsels, to risk the loss of them owing to any fault of mine;" and he whispered, rising, "Don't let any of them know I have consulted you."