“Are we so sure it is for her good?” he said. “Let the little maid see her suitor and judge for herself. But I must not stay talking any longer of marrying and giving in marriage, for I am to visit Sir Richard Hopton at Canon Frome on my way home. Do you entrust me with a message to the owner of Garnons? He comes to stay with me to-morrow.”
“Thank him for his courtesy, and say that we shall gladly receive him as a guest next week, if it suits his convenience,” said the Bishop. “The two had best meet as you suggest, and we shall see what time will bring forth.”
He returned to his treatise on the Colossians, and William Coke ordered his horse, kissed his sister, and, noticing her wistful expression, racked his kindly brain for some word that would cheer her.
“I am a doited old bachelor,” he said, smoothing back his grizzled hair and adjusting his wide felt hat. “But I somehow fancy Hilary will be in no haste to leave her mother for this worthy gentleman.”
Mrs. Unett sighed. Her voice had a mournful tone in it as she replied, “It is, after all, the way of the world, and what mothers must expect.”
He moved towards the door, but suddenly returned to her side with a broad smile on his ruddy face, and a world of fun in his twinkling eyes.
“Make yourself easy,” he said, “I don’t think she will accept him. I am the man’s ambassador, but there is one trifle I had forgot—I honestly admit that he squints.”
He rode off laughing to himself, and gave little more thought to the matter, for, as he had very truly remarked, love affairs were not at all in his line, and some interesting relics at Canon Frome drove both Hilary and her suitor from his mind.
The poor Bishop, however, was not long allowed to dwell on the spiritual characteristics of the men of Colosse; for in the late afternoon Dr. Harford craved an audience of him, and after due apologies for Gabriel’s impetuous love-making, told Hilary’s grandfather of Mr. Unett’s words in the past, and begged his consent to the union of the two old playmates.
The Bishop was dismayed at the proposal, and ruefully remembered that the dangers of constant intercourse had struck him when Gabriel returned from Oxford, but that a sudden idea as to the position of “Tychicus, a beloved brother and faithful minister,” had driven out the prudent reflection. His treatise had prospered wonderfully that summer, but meanwhile his granddaughter had been free to see as much as she pleased of the physician’s son.