‘Very amiable,’ said Mr. Crabbe.
‘Ha!’ interrupted Mervyn, ‘you are not afraid I shall let Augusta carry you off, Phœbe. She would give the world to get you, but I don’t mean to part with you.’
‘It is of no use to talk to her, Mervyn,’ cried Augusta’s loud voice from the other end of the room. ‘She knows that she cannot remain with you. Robert himself would tell her so.’
‘Robert knows better than to interfere,’ said Mervyn, with one of his scowls. ‘Now then, Phœbe, settle it for yourself. Will you stay and keep house for me at home, or be Augusta’s companion? There! the choice of Hercules. Virtue or vice?’ he added, trying to laugh.
‘Neither,’ said Phœbe, readily. ‘My home is fixed by Maria’s.’
‘Phœbe, are you crazy?’ broke out the three voices; while Sir Nicholas slowly and sententiously explained that he regretted the unfortunate circumstance, but Maria’s peculiarities made it impossible to produce her in society; and that when her welfare and happiness had been consulted by retirement, Phœbe would find a home in his house, and be treated as Lady Bannerman’s sister, and a young lady of her expectations, deserved.
‘Thank you,’ said Phœbe; then turning to her brother, ‘Mervyn, do you, too, cast off poor Maria?’
‘I told you what I thought of that long ago,’ said Mervyn, carelessly.
‘Very well, then,’ said Phœbe, sadly; ‘perhaps you will let us stay till some lady can be found of whom Mr. Crabbe may approve, with whom Maria and I can live.’
‘Lady Acton!’ Sir Bevil’s voice was low and entreating, but all heard it.