David quaked.
“Thank you, aunt; but it is not worth while now.”
“Ah!” said Mrs. Bazalgette, casting a venomous look on David; “I am too late, am I? Poor girl!”
Lucy soothed her aunt with the information that she was much happier now than she had been for a long time past. For this was a fencing-match.
“May I have a word in private with my niece?” inquired Mrs. Bazalgette, bitterly, of David.
“Why not?” said David stoutly; but his heart turned sick as he retired. Lucy saw the look of anxiety.
“Lucy,” said Mrs. Bazalgette, “you left me because you are averse to matrimony, and I urged you to it; of course, with those sentiments, you have no idea of marrying that man there. I don't suspect you of such hypocrisy, and therefore I say come home with me, and you shall marry nobody; your inclination shall be free as air.”
“Aunt,” said Lucy, demurely, “why didn't you come yesterday? I always said those who love me best would find me first, and you let Mr. Dodd come first. I am so sorry!”
“Then your pretended aversion to marriage was all hypocrisy, was it?”
Lucy informed her that marriage was a contract, and the contracting parties two, and no more—the bride and bridegroom; and that to sign a contract without reading it is silly, and meaning not to keep it is wicked. “So,” said she, “I read the contract over in the prayer-book this morning, for fear of accidents.”