And she thought of Bobby’s epithet, “money-grubbing little worm,” and decided that it aptly fitted Ernest.
Bobby chaffed her about the curate, affecting to believe she had suffered a disappointment.
Prudence did not confide in him the tale of the curate’s duplicity; loyalty to Matilda kept her silent on that subject. But her wrathful disgust was roused on the day of Matilda’s wedding, when Mr Jones, claiming the privilege of a brother, caught her unprepared in the hall and kissed her unsuspecting lips.
“If you ever take such a liberty with me again,” she said, white and angry, “I will make you the laughing-stock of Wortheton.”
He assumed an air of dignity while conscious of looking ridiculous. Her words, her tone in uttering them, lashed him into a rage of hatred that cured him finally of any tender thought he had cherished in regard to her. He spoke of her later to his wife as ill-mannered and ungentle of temper, a description which, while holding it to be ungenerous, occasioned Matilda considerable comfort. She had felt uneasily jealous of Prudence at times, even during the days of her brief engagement. Mr Jones had shown such predilection for the society of the younger sister that Matilda, like Leah, was made to realise the humiliating position of the substitute. Her faith in his uprightness did not allow of disbelief; besides which his ill-natured criticism of her young sister carried conviction; his tone expressed cordial dislike.
“Fuller acquaintance with her reveals her more objectionable qualities,” he said. “I believed her to be a nice, simple girl, but she is certainly not that.”
“Prudence is very warm-hearted,” Matilda said weakly in defence of the absent. “But father spoils her a little.”
“He makes a fool of her,” was the bridegroom’s unclerical retort.
Thus Matilda left the home of her childhood, seated beside her husband in the carriage which was to take them to the junction, and to the back of which Bobby, with a sense of the eternal unfitness of things, had tied one of Matilda’s discarded shoes. Not even the thought of the comfortable dowry which went with the gentle Matilda had the power to lighten Mr Jones’ lowering countenance during the long drive to the station, and Mr Graynor had behaved with quite surprising generosity in the matter of settlements. The hard ring in Prudence’s voice, when she had threatened to make a laughing-stock of him, the expression of disgust on her white face, hit his pride hard. And he dared not offend her further from the wholly unnecessary fear that she would put her threat into execution. He knew that he had paid her marked attention, and that Wortheton was aware of his preference. If she chose to spread tales about him they would not lack credence.
His frown deepened when he felt his wife’s gloved hand timidly feeling for his; then he roused himself with an effort and responded to the gentle pressure of her fingers.