Dolly felt that her father would be more likely to do it if she were not to interfere at all; but she could not say that. She did feel the request to be altogether unreasonable. She struggled to avert from her own mind all feeling of dislike for the girl, and to look at it as she might have done if Amelia had been her special friend.
"Aunt Carroll," she said, "you had better go up to London and see my father there—in his chambers. You will catch him if you go at once."
"Alone?"
"Yes, alone. Tell him about the girl's marriage, and let him judge what he ought to do."
"Could not you come with me?"
"No. You don't understand. I have to think of his money. He can say what he will do with his own."
"He will never give it without coming to you."
"He never will if he does come to me. You may prevail with him. A man may throw away his own money as he pleases. I cannot tell him that he ought to do it. You may say that you have told me, and that I have sent you to him. And tell him, let him do what he will, that I shall find no fault with him. If you can understand me and him you will know that I can do nothing for you beyond that." Then Dolly took her leave and went home.
The mother, turning it all over in her mind, did understand something of her niece, and went off to London as quick as the omnibus could take her. There she did see her brother, and he came back, in consequence, to dinner a little earlier than usual.
"Why did you send my sister to me?" were the first words which he said to Dolly.