How lucky it was, she thought, that she had behaved amiably on the announcement of Gertrude Creswell's marriage, and not, as she had felt inclined at first to do, returned a savage, or at best a formal, answer! These people, these Benthalls, were just those through whose agency her designs must be carried out. They were very friendly with Walter, and of course saw something of him; indeed, she had heard that he was expected down to stay at Helmingham, so soon as he could get away from London. If she played her cards well--not too openly at first, but with circumspection--she might make good use of these people; and as they would not be too well off, even with the interest of Gertrude's money, if they had a family (and these sort of people, poor parsons and schoolmasters--James Ashurst's daughter had already learned to speak in that way--always had a large number of children), she might be able, in time, to buy their services and mould them to her will.
It was under the influence of these feelings that Marian had determined on being exceedingly polite to the Benthalls, and she regretted very much that she had been away from home at the time when they called on her. She wrote a note to that effect to Mrs. Benthall, and intimated her intention of returning the visit almost immediately. Mrs. Benthall showed the note to her husband, who read it and lifted his eyebrows, and asked his wife what it meant, and why the widow had suddenly become so remarkably attached to them. Mrs. Benthall professed her inability to answer his question, but remarked that it was a good thing that "that" was all settled between Maude and Walter, before Walter came in madam's way again.
"But he isn't likely to come in her way again," said the Reverend George.
"I don't know that," said Gerty; "this sudden friendship for us looks to me very much as though----"
"You don't mean to say you think Mrs. Creswell intends making a convenience of us?" asked Mr. Benthall.
"I think she did so intend," said Gertrude; "but she----"
"We'll have nothing of that sort!" cried Mr. Benthall, going through that process which is known as "flaring up;" "we can get on well enough without her and her presents, and if----"
"Ah, you silly thing," interrupted Gertrude, "don't you see that when Walter marries Maude, there will be an end of any use to which we could be put by Mrs. Creswell, even if we were not going away to the Newmanton living in a very few weeks? You may depend upon it, that as soon as she hears the news--and I will take care to let her know it when she calls here--she will gracefully retire, and during the remainder of our stay in Helmingham we shall see very little more of the rich widow."
On the night of his acceptance by Maude Creswell, Walter wrote a long letter to Lady Caroline. He wrote it in his room--the old room in which he used to sleep in his usher-days: he had bargained to have that when he came down--when all the household was in bed, after an evening passed by him in earnest conversation with Maude and Gertrude, while Mr. Benthall busied himself with an arrangement of affairs consequent upon his giving up the school, which he had decided upon doing at midsummer. In the course of that long conversation Walter mentioned that he was about to write to Lady Caroline, acquainting her with what had taken place, and also told the girls of his having consulted her previous to the step which he had taken. He thought this information, as showing Lady Caroline's approbation of the match, would be hailed with great delight; and he was surprised to see a look pass between Maude and Gertrude, and to hear the latter say--
"Oh, Walter, you don't mean to say you asked Lady Caroline's advice as to your marrying Maude!"