“And you are the proper person to find him a nice wife, Maudie—a real jewel, you know—no paste. I’ve asked him to come and dine on Friday—quite by ourselves, and you can talk to him—of course, not about matrimony—just to find out his tastes. In fact, I know them—he was desperately in love once, with a quiet fair-haired girl; she had a soft manner, and a charming smile, and married a drunken boor—who broke her heart—and——”
“But listen, Johnny,” interrupted his wife, “we have a little dinner on Friday—don’t you remember? The Colletts and Sir Fred and Lady Hewson.”
“By Jove! Yes—so we have! Then I’ll put him off till Sunday.”
“No, no, you will do nothing of the sort. I will ask a girl specially to meet him. I know the very one to suit him. What do you say to Julia Barker?”
“Oh,” doubtfully, “I don’t think she would be his style at all—no—not one little bit.”
“Why not? She is handsome, agreeable, well connected—the Hollington-Barkers you know.”
“Yes, but I don’t admire her; she’s too stout and full-blown; too loud, and I should say, had the devil of a temper.”
“It is not necessary for you to admire her, Johnny. Poor Ju has led a life to try the temper of a saint. A spendthrift old father, and since his death she is a sort of wanderer, and wants a home of her own so badly; her life is spent in visits—and she lives in her boxes. Now the Barre girls are growing up she cannot be there so much, and she hates being paying guest.”
“Miss Barker has no money,” objected Major Sutton.
“But Colonel Doran has, and Ju is wonderful, she can make one penny go as far as two! She will be a capital wife for him, lively, energetic, and managing—and so well connected.”