However, when the tray was brought in and the victimised gentleman had comforted his inner man with hot negus, and was at liberty to sip it in close proximity to Miss Bodkin's chair, and had received one or two kind looks from Miss Bodkin's eyes, and several kind words from Miss Bodkin's lips, his heart grew soft within him, and he began to think that even six, ten—a dozen rubbers of whist with the doctor would not be too high a price to pay for these privileges! Then they talked of Diamond's engagement to Rhoda—it had been spoken of all over Whitford hours ago!—and of his prospects. And Mr. Warlock was quite effusive in his rejoicings on both scores. He had been dimly jealous of Minnie's regard for Diamond, and was heartily glad of the prospect of getting rid of him. Mr. Dockett, too, seemed to think the match a desirable one. He pursed up his mouth and looked knowing as he dropped a mysterious hint as to the extent of Rhoda's dowry. "I made old Max's will myself," said he; "and without violating professional secrecy, I may confirm what I hear old Max bruits abroad at every opportunity—namely, that he is a warm man—a very warm man in—deed! But I'm sure Mr. Diamond is a young man of sound principles, and will make the girl a good husband. And it is decided promotion for her too, you know. A grocer's daughter! Eh? I'm sure I wish them well most sincerely." And shall we blame Mr. Dockett if, in his fatherly anxiety, he rejoiced at the removal of a dangerous rival to his little Ally, on whom young Pawkins had recently bestowed a good deal of attention whenever Rhoda Maxfield was out of his reach?
"I never knew such a popular engagement," said Dr. Bodkin, innocently. "Everybody seems to approve! One might almost fear it could not be a case of true love, it runs so very smooth. There does not appear to be a single objection."
"Except the Digamma, papa!"
"Except the Digamma," echoed the doctor merrily. And when he was alone with his wife that night, he remarked to her that he was immensely thankful to see the great improvement in their beloved child this winter.
"Minnie is certainly stronger," said the mother.
"And in such excellent spirits!" said the father.
CHAPTER XIII.
The days passed by and brought no letter, in answer to Castalia's, from Lord Seely. Dreary were the hours in Ivy Lodge. The wife was devoured by passionate jealousy and a vain yearning for affection; the husband found that even the bright, smooth, hard metal of his own character was not impervious to the corrosive action of daily cares, regrets, and apprehensions. Algernon was not apt to hate. He usually perceived the absurd side of persons who were obnoxious to him with too keen an amusement to detest them; and the inmost feeling of his heart with respect to his fellow-creatures in general approached, perhaps, as nearly to perfect indifference as it is given to a mortal to attain. But it was not possible to preserve a condition of indifference towards Castalia. She was a thorn in his flesh, a mote in his eye, a weariness to his spirit; and he began to dislike the very sight of the sallow, sickly face, red-eyed too often, and haggard with discontent, that met his view whenever he was in his own home. It was the daily "worry" of it, he told himself, that was unendurable. It was the being shut up with her in a box like Ivy Lodge, where there was no room for them to get away from each other. If he could have shared a mansion in Grosvenor Square with Castalia he might have got on with her well enough! But then, that mansion in Grosvenor Square would have made so many things different in his life.
At length one day came a letter to Castalia, with the London post-mark and sealed with the well-known coat of arms, but it did not bear Lord Seely's frank. Another name was scrawled in the corner, and the direction was written in Lady Seely's crooked, cramped little characters.