“That must be thought of,” said he, musingly.
“Clara, too, must be thought of,—married, if possible, to some one going abroad,—to Australia or New Zealand. Perhaps O'Shea.” And she burst out a-laughing at the thought.
“Or Paten. I 'd say Ludlow—”
A look of sickly aversion crossed his daughter's face at the suggestion, and she said,—
“Nothing on earth would induce, me to consent to it.”
The Captain might have regarded this as a woman's weakness, but he said nothing.
“It will be very difficult for me to get away at this moment too,” said she, after a pause. “I don't fancy being absent while young Heathcote is here. He will be making all manner of inquiries about Clara,—where she is, with whom, and for what? If I were on the spot, I could suppress such perquisitions.”
“After all, dear Loo, the other is the great event I conclude, if all goes smoothly about this work, you 'll never dream of the marriage with Sir William?”
“Perhaps not,” said she, roguishly. “I am not so desperately in love as to do an imprudence. There is, however, much to be thought of, papa. In a few days more Ludlow is to be back here with my letters, more than ever necessary at this moment, when any scandal might be fatal. If he were to know anything of this accession of fortune, his demands would be insupportable.”
“No doubt of that. At the same time, if he merely hears that your marriage with the Baronet is broken off, he will be more tractable. How are you to obtain these letters?”