Nevertheless Mary thought that she would tell it. It would be so nice to consult a brother! It would be so pleasant to discuss the matter with some one that would sympathise with her,—with some one who would not wish to drive her into Mr. Gilmore's arms simply because Mr. Gilmore was an excellent gentleman, with a snug property! Even from Janet Fenwick, whom she loved dearly, she had never succeeded in getting the sort of sympathy that she wanted. Janet was the best friend in the world,—was actuated in this matter simply by a desire to do a good turn to two people whom she loved. But there was no sympathy between her and Mary in the matter.
"Marry him," said Janet, "and you will adore him afterwards."
"I want to adore him first," said Mary.
So she resolved that she would tell Walter Marrable what was her position. They were again down on the banks of the Lurwell, sitting together on a slope which had been made to support some hundred yards of a canal, where the river itself rippled down a slightly rapid fall. They were seated between the canal and the river, with their feet towards the latter, and Walter Marrable was just lighting a cigar. It was very easy to bring the conversation round to the affairs of Bullhampton, as Sam was still in prison, and Janet's letters were full of the mystery which shrouded the murder of Mr. Trumbull.
"By the bye," said she, "I have something to tell you about Mr. Gilmore."
"Tell away," said he, as he turned the cigar round in his mouth, to complete the lighting of the edges in the wind.
"Ah, but I shan't, unless you will interest yourself. What I am going to tell you ought to interest you."
"He has made you a proposal of marriage?"
"Yes."
"I knew it."