"I just saw her,—but could hardly say much. She had written to my aunt about going to Cheltenham."
"I saw the letter before she sent it, Mr. Morton."
"So she told me. My aunt would be delighted to have her, but it seems that Mrs. Masters does not wish her to go."
"There is some trouble about it, Mr. Morton;—but I may as well tell you at once that I wish her to go. She would be better for awhile at Cheltenham with such a lady as your aunt than she can be at home. Her stepmother and she cannot agree on a certain point. I dare say you know what it is, Mr. Morton?"
"In regard, I suppose, to Mr. Twentyman?"
"Just that. Mrs. Masters thinks that Mr. Twentyman would make an excellent husband. And so do I. There's nothing in the world against him, and as compared with me he's a rich man. I couldn't give the poor girl any fortune, and he wouldn't want any. But money isn't everything."
"No indeed."
"He's an industrious steady young man too, and he has had my word with him all through. But I can't compel my girl to marry him if she don't like him. I can't even try to compel her. She's as good a girl as ever stirred about a house."
"I can well believe that."
"And nothing would take such a load off me as to know that she was going to be well married. But as she don't like the young man well enough, I won't have her hardly used."