‘Yet he proposed to mine in the valley,’ observed Mr. Wyvern, half to himself, casting a glance at the window.
Mrs. Waltham did not at first see the connection between this and what she had been saying. Then it occurred to her that Mr. Wyvern was aristocratic in his views.
‘To be sure,’ she said, ‘one expects to find a little of the original—of the money-making spirit. Of course such a thing would never have suggested itself to the Eldons. And in fact very little of the lands remained to them. Mr. Mutimer bought a great deal from other people.’
As Mr. Wyvern sat brooding, Mrs. Waltham asked—
‘You have seen Mrs. Eldon?’
‘Not yet. She is too unwell to receive visits.’
‘Yes, poor thing, she is a great invalid. I thought, perhaps, you—. But I know she likes to be very quiet. What a strange thing about Mr. Eldon, is it not? You know that he has never come yet; not even to the funeral.’
‘Singular!’
‘An inexplicable thing! There has never been a shadow of disagreement between them.’
‘Mr. Eldon is abroad, I believe?’ said the clergyman musingly.