"Do you not feel that the girls should not be chucked about like balls from a battledore?" asked Mrs. Dosett.
"For their own good, Margaret. I only propose it for their own good. You can't but think it would be a good thing for Ayala to be married to our Tom."
"If she liked him."
"Why shouldn't she like him? You know what that means. Poor Ayala is young, and a little romantic. She would be a great deal happier if all that could be knocked out of her. She has to marry somebody, and the sooner she settles down the better. Sir Thomas will do anything for them;—a horse and carriage, and anything she could set her heart upon! There is nothing Sir Thomas would not do for Tom so as to get him put upon his legs again."
"I don't think Ayala would go."
"She must, you know," whispered Lady Tringle, "if we both tell her."
"And Lucy?"
"She must too," again whispered Lady Tringle. "If they are told they are to go, what else can they do? Why shouldn't Ayala wish to come?"
"There were quarrels before."
"Yes;—because of Augusta. Augusta is married now." Lady Tringle could not quite say that Augusta was gone.