A few mornings after the dance at the Bouchers’, they were strolling together under the shade of an avenue of elm trees, which formed the approach to the house, and he was telling her of his interview with Frederick Walcheren. One of the little girls, Elsie, was holding her mother by the hand, whilst the other, Laura, was wandering in front of them, and the son and heir, was perched on his father’s shoulder, enjoying a ride. In the length and breadth of England, you could hardly have found a more united, or happier family.
‘I did not much relish the task, Hannah,’ he was saying to his wife, ‘when Mr Crampton entrusted it to me, for I anticipated a tough battle with the young gentleman. A man does not particularly care to have a stranger intermeddle with his love affairs—’
‘Oh! but Mr Walcheren could never look on you as a stranger,’ interposed Mrs Hindes, ‘he must know how very intimate you are with the family and that you have known dear Jenny almost since she was born.’
‘Not quite that, Hannah,’ said her husband, wincing, for he did not like to be reminded that he was ‘getting on,’ ‘but long enough, at all events, to act as her father’s ambassador. Anyhow, I thought he would resent my speaking to him, and perhaps cause a bit of a scandal; but, to my surprise, he took it so quietly and so much as a matter of course, that I begin to think he was never in earnest, and was rather glad than otherwise, of an opportunity to withdraw without dishonour.’
‘Then he must be a scoundrel!’ replied Mrs Hindes, with unusual vehemence for her gentle nature, ‘for I am witness that he behaved to dear Jenny just as if he were in earnest. I have been with them often, you know, Henry, when there has been no one else by, and if ever a man pretended to be in love with a woman, Mr Walcheren did!’
‘Anyone would “spoon” a little, with such a pretty girl, if she gave him the opportunity, my dear,’ replied Mr Hindes, ‘and our dear Jenny is a bit of a flirt, you must allow that. I wouldn’t trust her with a grandfather, if I valued his peace of mind.’
‘I don’t know what you mean by “spoon,”’ said Mrs Hindes, who professed to understand no modern slang, ‘but he looked at her and spoke to her as if he loved her and wished her to love him, and, if he meant nothing by it, all I can say is that he deserves a much worse reprimand than a mere hint to cease his visits at the house. Why, he might have broken darling Jenny’s heart!’
‘What do you mean?’ exclaimed her husband; ‘she doesn’t care for the fellow!’
‘Who can say if she cares for him or not, Henry? Women don’t run about, as a rule, telling everyone they meet of their predilections for gentlemen who have not yet proposed for them.’
‘But, good God! do you mean to insinuate that the girl’s happiness is likely to be affected by this business? You must be mistaken! Jenny would never be such a fool as to risk losing all her father’s money for the sake of the first young jackanapes who says he loves her!’