As usual, Lady Martindale’s reluctance had been overrated. John found that she had never calculated on anything but Theodora’s marrying at once; she only observed that she supposed it could not be helped, and she was glad her dear aunt was spared the sight.
‘And you will not miss her so much when I am at home.’
‘You, my dear; I am never so happy as when you are here; but I do not depend on you. I should like you to spend this winter abroad, and then we must have you in Parliament again.’
‘If I were sure that you would be comfortable,’ said John; ‘but otherwise I could not think of leaving you.’
‘I was thinking,’ said Lady Martindale, with the slowness of one little wont to originate a scheme, ‘how pleasant it would be, if we could keep Arthur and Violet always with us. I cannot bear to part with the dear children, and I am sure they will all be ill again if they go back to London.’
‘To live with us! exclaimed John. ‘Really, mother, you have found the best plan of all. Nothing could be better!’
‘Do you think your father would approve?’ said Lady Martindale, eagerly.
‘Let us propose it to him,’ said John, and without further delay he begged him to join the conference. The plan was so excellent that it only seemed strange that it had occurred to no one before, combining the advantages of giving Arthur’s health a better chance; of country air for the children, and of economy. Lord Martindale looked very well pleased, though still a little doubtful, as he pondered, whether there might not be some unseen objection, and to give himself time to think, repeated, in answer to their solicitations, that it was a most important step.
‘For instance,’ said he, as if glad to have recollected one argument on the side of caution, ‘you see, if they live here, we are in a manner treating Johnnie as the acknowledged heir.’
‘Exactly so,’ replied John; ‘and it will be the better for him, and for the people. For my part—’