‘Young people always have those fancies. I know what you would say, but John is not so young now. It is just the time of life when men take a turn. Depend upon it, now he has had his boy’s romance, he is not going to play the disconsolate lover for the rest of his life. No! that girl shall never be Lady Martindale.’
‘Well, I shan’t dispute’ said Theodora; ‘but—’
‘Believe when you see, said Mrs. Nesbit.
‘And so you mean it to be Emma Brandon,’ said Theodora, with the same sarcastic incredulity.
‘Let me tell you there are things more unlikely. John thinks much of Lady Elizabeth, and is just one of the men to marry a plain quiet girl, fancying she would be the more domestic; and for yourself, you would find Emma very accommodating—never in your way.’
‘No indeed,’ said Theodora.
‘Nothing could give your mother more pleasure. It is more than ever important now. What have you seen of Arthur’s piece of wax? He seems to have been playing with her all day long.’
‘Yes, poor fellow,’ said Theodora, sighing. ‘However, it might have been worse. I believe she is an innocent child, and very ladylike.’
‘There is an instance of the effect of your dissemination notions! This would never have happened if every country attorney did not bring up his daughters to pass for ladies!’
‘I am glad she is nothing outwardly to be ashamed of.’