"His mother looks after him," protested Pence weakly.
"Does she?" inquired Mrs. Coppersley. "I thought she looked after no one but herself. She's that selfish as never was, so don't you go to defend her, Mr. Pence. Henry, poor boy, who is an angel, if ever there was one, is quite neglected; so I am going to marry him and look after him. So there!" and Mrs. Coppersley, placing her hands akimbo, defied her pastor.
"Henry has no money," said Pence, finding another objection.
"As to that," remarked Mrs. Coppersley indifferently, "when my brother dies I'll have money for us both, and this house into the bargain."
"You will have nothing of the sort," said Silas, surprised into saying more than was wise. "Your brother's daughter will inherit this——"
"Oh, will she?" cried Mrs. Coppersley violently, "and much you know about it, Mr. Pence. When my late husband, who was a ship's steward, and saving, died ten year ago, I lent my brother some money to add to his own, so that he might buy Bleacres. He agreed that if I did so, I should inherit the house and the land. I promised to look after Bella until she got married, and——"
"Mrs. Coppersley," said Pence, with an effort at firmness, "your brother told me only lately that if I married Bella, he would give her the farm and the house when he died, so——"
"Ho, indeed," interrupted Mrs. Coppersley wrathfully, "pretty goings on, I'm sure. You call yourself a pastor, Mr. Pence, and come plotting to rob me of what is mine. I take everything, and Bella nothing, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it, though you ain't man enough to smoke even a penny cigar. You marry Bella? Why, she's as good as engaged to that young Lister, who has got more gumption about him than you have."
"I advise you," said Pence, and his voice sounded strangely in his own ears, "not to tell your brother that his daughter is engaged to Mr. Lister."
"I never said that she was. But——"