"I am aware of it, but for Phœbe's sake I am trying to think it out in the way it will happen. I have never inquired into Mr. Cornwall's circumstances; but they are not very flourishing at present, are they?"
"I don't think they are."
"I know they are not. He and your father have had conversations which lead me to the belief that he earns just a sufficient income to keep himself comfortably."
"He is very clever in his profession; and there is the future."
"That is one of the things I am thinking of," said Mrs. Lethbridge, gravely: "the future. 'How much money have you got?' Phœbe's father will ask him; and when the young man answers honestly—as Mr. Cornwall is sure to do—Phœbe's father will say, 'As you have no money of your own, you come after my daughter's.' I am very much afraid of it, Fanny. I pray that there is no trouble in store for her."
"Mother, you frighten me." Fanny experienced at that moment a feeling of terror at the conspiracy into which she and Fred Cornwall had entered, which was to result in Fred's unexpected appearance at Parksides with birthday presents for Phœbe. She did not dare to refer to it, so she kept the secret locked in her breast.
"I do not wish to frighten you, my dear," said Mrs. Lethbridge, "and perhaps, after all, I am only raising bug-bears. Let us hope for the best."
"We will," said Fanny, brightening up instantly. She was like an April day; the least glimpse of sunshine brought gladness to her. "And now, mother, just one word."
"Well, my dear?"
"If Mr. Cornwall proposes to Phœbe—which he will—and if she accepts him—which she will—and if he speaks to Phœbe's father, and Phœbe's father will not hear of it, what is to be done?"