‘Hush, hush, Ida!’ said her mother. ‘Your uncle has always treated us handsomely, and we have every reason to expect that he will continue to do so.’
‘He ought to have us to live with him in his house in London, and take us to Court,’ said Ida. ‘Oh, Mr. Rollstone, is he not bound to do that?’
And Constance breathed, ‘How delicious!’
Mr. Rollstone perhaps had his doubts of the figures Mrs. and Miss Morton would cut in society, but he contented himself with saying, ‘It may be well to moderate your expectations, Miss Ida, and to remember that Lord Northmoor is not compulsorily bound to consult any interests but his own.’
‘If he does not, it is perfectly abominable,’ cried Mrs. Morton, ‘towards his poor, only brother’s children, with Herbert his next heir-apparent.’
‘Heir-presumptuous,’ solemnly corrected Mr. Rollstone, at which Ida looked at Constance, but Constance respected Rosie’s feelings, and would not return her sister’s glance, only blushed, and sniggered.
‘Heir-apparent is only the eldest son, who cannot be displaced by any contingency.’
‘And there’s a horrid, little, artful school teacher, who drew him in years ago—before I was married even,’ said Mrs. Morton. ‘No doubt she will try to keep him now. Most likely she always knew what was going to happen. Cannot he be set free from the entanglement?’
‘Oh!’ gasped Constance.
‘That is serious,’ observed Mr. Rollstone gravely.