The conversation had turned upon Madeline. She was a favourite subject with her father.
“She nursed me well and pulled me through that nasty illness last winter. I shall never forget her. One would have said she was accustomed to nursing—and nursing a man too, ha, ha! I should miss her terribly if she married.”
“But there is no prospect of that at present, is there?” asked his listener softly.
“No. She is too stand-off. She will ride and dance, and talk and laugh, but once a man’s attentions become marked, she freezes up! I’m afraid she is serious when she says she won’t marry. There’s Lord Tony hanging after her.”
“Oh, don’t you think he is very much épris with Miss Teale of New York?”
“Not he!” impatiently. “I dare say he and Madeline will settle it some day.”
“And then how lonely you will be, dear Mr. West! I know what it is like.”
“Yes, I suppose it will be a little dull, unless the young people will live with me.”
“Oh!” rather sharply, “they won’t do that!”
“If they don’t, I shall have to set up another housekeeper, to get some one to take pity on me and marry again,” and he looked significantly into Mrs. Leach’s unabashed eyes.