"Yes, of course. And no doubt it is very gratifying to me to see that she thinks so much of religion. It should be the first consideration with all of us at all times. But she has never been used to men like Mr. Saul."
"Nobody can deny that he is a gentleman."
"Yes; he is a gentleman. God forbid that I should say he was not; especially now that he is going to marry your sister. But— I don't know whether you quite understand what I mean?"
"I think I do. He isn't quite one of our sort."
"How on earth she can ever have brought herself to look at him in that light!"
"There's no accounting for tastes, sir. And, after all, as he's to have the living, there will be nothing to regret."
"No; nothing to regret. I suppose he'll be up at the other house occasionally. I never could make anything of him when he dined at the rectory; perhaps he'll be better there. Perhaps, when he's married, he'll get into the way of drinking a glass of wine like anybody else. Dear Fanny; I hope she'll be happy. That's everything." In answer to this Harry took upon himself to assure his father that Fanny would be happy; and then they changed the conversation, and discussed the alterations which they would make in reference to the preservation of pheasants.
Mr. Saul and Fanny remained long together on that occasion, and when they parted he went off about his work, not saying a word to any other person in the house, and she betook herself as fast as her feet could carry her to her own room. She said not a word either to her mother, or to her sister, or to Florence as to what had passed at that interview; but, when she was first seen by any of them, she was very grave in her demeanour, and very silent. When her father congratulated her, which he did with as much cordiality as he was able to assume, she kissed him and thanked him for his care and kindness; but even this she did almost solemnly. "Ah, I see how it is to be," said the old rector to his wife. "There are to be no more cakes and ale in the parish." Then his wife reminded him of what he himself had said of the change which would take place in Mr. Saul's ways when he should have a lot of children running about his feet. "Then I can only hope that they'll begin to run about very soon," said the old rector.
To her sister, Mary Fielding, Fanny said little or nothing of her coming marriage, but to Florence, who, as regarded that event, was in the same position as herself, she frequently did express her feelings,—declaring how awful to her was the responsibility of the thing she was about to do. "Of course that's quite true," said Florence, "but it doesn't make one doubt that one is right to marry."
"I don't know," said Fanny. "When I think of it, it does almost make me doubt."