“It will all come right yet,” replied Miss Jack. “Take my word for it he loves her.”
“Fudge,” said Mr. Leslie. But he could not afford to quarrel with his rich connection.
In spite of all that he had said and thought to the contrary, Maurice did look forward during the remainder of the summer to his return to Spanish Town with something like impatience. It was very dull work, being there alone at Mount Pleasant; and let him do what he would to prevent it, his very dreams took him to Shandy Hall. But at last the slow time made itself away, and he found himself once more in his aunt’s house.
A couple of days passed and no word was said about the Leslies. On the morning of the third day he determined to go to Shandy Hall. Hitherto he had never been there without staying for the night; but on this occasion he made up his mind to return the same day. “It would not be civil of me not to go there,” he said to his aunt.
“Certainly not,” she replied, forbearing to press the matter further. “But why make such a terrible hard day’s work of it?”
“Oh, I shall go down in the cool, before breakfast; and then I need not have the bother of taking a bag.”
And in this way he started. Miss Jack said nothing further; but she longed in her heart that she might be at Marian’s elbow unseen during the visit.
He found them all at breakfast, and the first to welcome him at the hall door was Marian. “Oh, Mr. Cumming, we are so glad to see you;” and she looked into his eyes with a way she had, that was enough to make a man’s heart wild. But she did not call him Maurice now.
Miss Jack had spoken to her sister, Mrs. Leslie, as well as to Mr. Leslie, about this marriage scheme. “Just let them alone,” was Mrs. Leslie’s advice. “You can’t alter Marian by lecturing her. If they really love each other they’ll come together; and if they don’t, why then they’d better not.”
“And you really mean that you’re going back to Spanish Town to-day?” said Mrs. Leslie to her visitor.