“I doubt whether you will find it so.”
“All the world does not live on romance like you, man. Look on, and you will see that a pretty young widow like her cannot fail to get into scrapes; have offers made to her, or at least the credit of them. I’d lay you ten pounds that you are said to be engaged to her yourself by this time, and it is no one’s fault but your own that you are not. It is in the very nature of things that she will be driven to shelter herself from the persecution, with whoever has bided his time.”
“Oh, if you prefer being accepted on such terms—”
He smiled, as if the romance of the exclamation were beneath contempt, and proceeded—“A pretty, gracious, ladylike woman, who has seen enough of the world to know how to take her place, and yet will be content with a quiet home. It is an introduction I thank you for, Colin.”
“And pray,” said Colin, the more inwardly nettled because he knew that his elder brother enjoyed his annoyance, “what do you think of those seven slight encumbrances?”
“Oh, they are your charge,” returned Lord Keith, with a twinkle in his eye. “Besides, most of them are lads, and what with school, sea, and India, they will be easily disposed of.”
“Certainly it has been so in our family,” said Colin, rather hoarsely, as he thought of the four goodly brothers who had once risen in steps between him and the Master.
“And,” added Lord Keith, still without direct answer, “she is so handsomely provided for, that you see, Colin, I could afford to give you up the Auchinvar property, that should have been poor Archie’s, and what with the farms and the moor, it would bring you in towards three hundred a year for your housekeeping.”
Colin restrained himself with difficulty, but made quiet answer. “I had rather see it settled as a provision on Mary and her children.”
Lord Keith growled something about minding his own concerns.