“I am afraid Prescott is hardly eligible for a place on the bench yet, uncle. He is very hard working and clever, but the bar is slow work.”
“I suppose he has not much beyond his profession?”
“Very little, uncle; I know his income was not sufficient to keep him before he got any practice, and he was obliged to draw upon his capital. But he told me last year that he was paying his expenses now, which was highly satisfactory considering he had only been called four years. Dear old Prescott,” Frank said, enthusiastically, “I wish he could get some very nice girl with plenty of money to marry him.”
Frank had at the moment spoken without any special meaning; but Kate, who had long known from Frank where Prescott had given his heart, glanced up at Alice, and saw that the colour had mounted up to her very forehead. Kate drew her own conclusions from this, and at night confided to Frank that she thought that Alice Heathcote would some day carry out his wish regarding Prescott.
“Do you mean that you think she will marry him, Kate?”
Kate nodded.
“He’s an awfully good fellow, Katie; I only hope you may be right. If she does she will have to ask him, for I feel pretty sure Prescott will never summon up courage sufficient to ask her. In spite of Alice being an heiress, and Prescott a poor man, I shall consider her to be a lucky girl.”
“I think so, too, Frank; it’s lucky for you he did not come down with you that time into Staffordshire, for there is no saying that I might not have taken a fancy to him.”
“Ah, Katie! but he might not have taken a fancy to you.” Frank laughed. “He has been thinking of Alice for I don’t know how long.”
“Well, Frank,” Kate said, looking round the room, “the ‘Tasmania’ was well enough, you know, but this is more comfortable after all.”