Then he wrote a short reply.
“DEAREST MOTHER,—
“Please not to expect me at the rectory until you see me. I have serious work on hand, which nothing but death or success will induce me to give up. Thanks for all your news.
“Robert may ride Sultana, but tell him, I’ll thrash him if he spoils her mouth. I am delighted to hear such good accounts of Mary Burton, but I have other thoughts in my head than old playfellows and sweethearts just now.
“With a great deal of love,
“Your affectionate son,
“FRANK VARLEY.”
Mrs. Varley read his letter, and sighed and cried over it. Then she showed it to Mary Burton, who sighed and smiled over it.
“Why are such coquettes as Amy Warden sent into the world to turn men’s brains, Mary, will you tell me that?” said Mrs. Varley. “If she had lived, she would have been a most unsuitable wife for Frank, with her self-willed, impatient temper. Will you wait for him, Mary? Do you think he is worth waiting for?”
And Mary had confessed that she thought he was worth waiting for, and had sighed and smiled again. Why should she not smile, indeed? There was no rival beauty in her way now!