“Don’t you?” said Lady Haredale, with a thought in her mind not very unlike her Rector’s, “Ah, you think she is a little nun. Well now, I am going to be quite frank with you. You know we are as poor as rats!”
“I—I—I have understood that—that Lord Haredale was—not wealthy,” stammered Lucian, losing his self-possession entirely.
“As rats—as church mice! Of course now I have no reserves with you. We can’t afford to take her out as we should like. Her grandfather’s will gives her 3,000 pounds on her wedding-day. We can’t give her a farthing more!”
“I know that—I don’t care. I can settle—”
“Ah yes; you will tell Lord Haredale about that. Because we are going to say yes. We think we ought to have our girl settled. And, my dear Mr Leigh—my dear Lucian, I want her to be happy. Oh, yes, you know about her poor sister.—That came of ambition—and I mean my Amethyst to have her way.”
“I shall take care of her. I’ll make her happy—” said Lucian, touched, and with fervour.
As he spoke, Lord Haredale came in, shook hands with him, heard his carefully prepared speech as to his money matters, and answered it. “Yes, my lady thinks we had better let her get settled at once. It will please her aunt, who brought her up. She is a good little thing, and I’m glad she should do well for herself.”
“Well then,” said Lady Haredale, “we don’t like all these formalities, do we? You will much prefer coming to Amethyst. But your mother? I suppose she doesn’t like it?”
“She does think we are rather young,” said Lucian meekly.
“I shall talk to her. Now wait here, and I will find the child.”