“I think not, and I suspect it will have one good effect The parson’s style will become natural at once, and you’ll see what a very different fashion he’ll write when the letter is addressed to me.”
“What will Florence say?”
“Nothing, if she knows nothing. And, of course, if you intend to take her into your counsels, you must please to omit me. I’m not going to legislate for a young lady’s future with herself to vote in the division!”
“But what’s to become of me, if you go away in the middle of the negotiation, and leave me to finish it?”
“I’ll not do so. I’ll pledge my word to see you through it. It will be far shorter than you suspect. The vicar will not play out his hand when he sees his adversary. You have nothing to do but write as I have told you; leave the rest to me.”
“Florence is sure to ask me what the vicar has written; she knows that I have had his letter.”
“Tell her it is a purely business letter; that his son having been offered a colonial appointment, he wishes to ascertain what your fortune his, and how circumstanced, before pledging himself further. Shock her a little about their worldliness, and leave the remainder to time.”
“But Joseph will write to her in the meanwhile and disabuse her of this.”
“Not completely. She’ll be annoyed that the news of the colonial place did not come first from himself; she’ll be piqued into something not very far from distrust; she’ll show some vexation when she writes; but don’t play the game before the cards are dealt. Wait, as I say—wait and see. Meanwhile, give me the vicar’s note, for I dread your showing it to Florry, and if she asks for it, say you sent it to Henderson—isn’t that your lawyer’s name?—in London, and told him to supply you with the means of replying to it.”
Like a fly in a cobweb, Miss Grainger saw herself entangled wherever she turned, and though perhaps in her secret heart she regretted having ever called Calvert to her counsels, the thing was now done and could not be undone.