“Wouldn’t look at you? That’s simply ridiculous, you know! She’d marry you out of hand—unless she’s perfectly idiotic. And she doesn’t look that. Leave her alone, Brook. Talk to the mother. She’s one of the most delightful women I ever met. She has a dear, quiet way with her—like a very thoroughbred white cat that’s been ill and wants to be petted.”
“What extraordinary ideas you have, mother!” laughed Brook. “But on general principles I don’t see why I shouldn’t marry Miss Bowring, if she’ll have me. Why not? Her father was a gentleman, you like her mother, and as for herself—”
“Oh, I’ve nothing against her. It’s all against you, Brook dear. You are such a dreadful flirt, you know! You’ll get tired of the poor girl and make her miserable. I’m sure she isn’t practical, as I am. The very first time you look at some one else she’ll get on a tragic horse and charge the crockery—and there will be a most awful smash! It’s not easy to manage you Johnstones when you think you are in love. I ought to know! ”
“I say, mother,” said Brook, “has anybody been telling you stories about me lately?”
“Lately? Let me see. The last I heard was that Mrs. Crosby—the one you all call Lady Fan—was going to get a divorce so as to marry you.”
“Oh—you heard that, did you?”
“Yes—everybody was talking about it and asking me whether it was true. It seems that she was with that party that brought you here. She left them at Naples, and came home at once by land, and they said she was giving out that she meant to marry you. I laughed, of course. But people wouldn’t talk about you so much, dear boy, if there were not so much to talk about. I know that you would never do anything so idiotic as that, and if Mrs. Crosby chooses to flirt with you, that’s her affair. She’s older than you, and knows more about it. But this is quite another thing. This is serious. You sha’n’t make love to that nice girl, Brook. You sha’n’t! I’ll do something dreadful, if you do. I’ll tell her all about Mrs. Leo Cairngorm or somebody like that. But you sha’n’t marry her and ruin her life.”
“You’re going in for philanthropy, mother,” said Brook, growing red. “It’s something new. You never made a fuss before.”
“No, of course not. You never were so foolish before, my dear boy. I’m not bad myself, I believe. But you are, every one of you, and I love you all, and the only way to do anything with you is to let you run wild a little first. It’s the only practical, sensible way. And you’ve only just begun—how in the world do you dare to think of marrying? Upon my word, it’s too bad. I won’t wait. I’ll frighten the girl to death with stories about you, until she refuses to speak to you! But I’ve taken a fancy to her mother, and you sha’n’t make the child miserable. You sha’n’t, Brook. Oh, I’ve made up my mind! You sha’n’t. I’ll tell the mother too. I’ll frighten them all, till they can’t bear the sight of you.”
Lady Johnstone was energetic, as well as original, in spite of her abnormal size, and Brook knew that she was quite capable of carrying out her threat, and more also.