“Yes.”
“And you agree, also, to his proposal for Mary?”
“It is matter of complete indifference to me who Miss Martin marries, if she only continue to reside where she does at present. I 'm certain she 'd not consult me on the subject; I'm sure I'd never control her. It is a mésalliance, to be sure; but it would be equally so, if she, with her rustic habits and uneducated mind, were to marry what would be called her equal. In the present case, she 'll be a little better than her station; in the other, she 'd be vastly beneath it!”
“Poor Molly!” said he, half aloud; and, for the first time, there was a touch of his father's tone and manner in the words.
Lady Dorothea looked at him, and with a slight shrug of the shoulders seemed to sneer at his low-priced compassion.
“Scoff away!” said he, sternly; “but if I thought that any consent we gave to this scheme could take the shape of a coercion, I 'd send the estate to the—”
“You have, sir; you have done all that already,” broke in Lady Dorothea. “When the troubled breathing that we hear from yonder room ceases, there is no longer a Martin of Cro' Martin!”
“Then what are we losing time for?” cried he, eagerly. “Are moments so precious to be spent in attack and recrimination? There's Scanlan sitting on a bench before the door. Call him up—tell him you accept his terms—let him start for London, post haste. With every speed he can master he 'll not be a minute too soon. Shall I call him? Shall I beckon to him?”
“Send a servant for him,” said Lady Dorothea, calmly, while she folded up the letter, and laid it on the table at her side.
Martin rang the bell and gave the order, and then, assuming an air of composure he was very far from feeling, sat silently awaiting Scanlan's entrance. That gentleman did not long detain them. He had been sitting, watch in hand, for above an hour, looking occasionally up at the windows, and wondering why he had not been summoned. It was, then, with an almost abrupt haste that he at last presented himself.