"But when a matter is of so much importance—" said Belinda.
"The importance, Bel, is to me, and not to you," said her brother.
"All we want to know is," continued the sister, "that she promises to be guided by you in this matter; and of course we feel quite sure that she will."
"If you are quite sure that must be sufficient for you."
"I really think you need not quarrel with your sister," said Lady Aylmer, "because she is anxious as to the—the respectability, I must say, for there is no other word, of a young lady whom you propose to make your wife. I can assure you that I am very anxious myself,—very anxious indeed."
Captain Aylmer made no answer to this, but he did not take the letter from his pocket. He drank his tea in silence, and in silence sent up his cup to be refilled. In silence also was it returned to him. He ate his two eggs and his three bits of toast, according to his custom, and when he had finished, sat out his three or four minutes as was usual. Then he got up to retire to his room, with the envelope still unbroken in his pocket.
"You will go to church with us, I suppose?" said Lady Aylmer.
"I won't promise, ma'am; but if I do, I'll walk across the park,—so that you need not wait for me."
Then both the mother and sister knew that the member for Perivale did not intend to go to church on that occasion. To morning service Sir Anthony always went, the habits of Aylmer Park having in them more of adamant in reference to him than they had as regarded his son.
When the father, mother, and daughter returned, Captain Aylmer had read his letter, and had, after doing so, received further tidings from Belton Castle,—further tidings which for the moment prevented the necessity of any reference to the letter, and almost drove it from his own thoughts. When his mother entered the library he was standing before the fire with a scrap of paper in his hand.