‘Then I am sure she would not like to turn mamma out,’ said Phœbe, stoutly.
‘Don’t you see that is the reason I want to have it settled beforehand. If she were a party to it, she would never consent; she would be confoundedly scrupulous, and we should be all worried to death. Come, you just sound my mother; you can do anything with her, and it will be better for you all. You will be bored to death here, seeing no one.’
‘I do not know whether it be a right proposal to make.’
‘Right? If the place had been my father’s, it would be a matter of course.’
‘That makes the whole difference. And even so, would not this be very soon?’
‘Of course you know I am proposing nothing at once. It would not be decent, I suppose, to marry within the half-year; but, poor little thing, I can’t leave her in suspense any longer. You should not have played that thing.’
‘Then you know that she cares for you?’
He laughed consciously at this home question.
‘It must be a long time since you were at Mr. Raymond’s.’
‘Eight years; but I have made flying visits there since, and met her at her uncle’s. Poor little thing, she was horribly gone off last time, and very ungracious, but we will find a remedy!’