“Is he still at the Hall?”
“Yes. But I don’t think it is altogether his fault. Grannie won’t let him go. I don’t believe he knows how determined auntie is not to marry him. Only, to be sure, though grannie never lets her have more than five shillings in her pocket at a time, she will be worth something when she is married.”
“Nothing can make her worth more than she is, Judy,” I said, perhaps with some discontent in my tone.
“That’s as you and I think, Mr Walton; not as grannie and the captain think at all. I daresay he would not care much more than grannie whether she was willing or not, so long as she married him.”
“But, Judy, we must have some plan laid before we reach the Hall; else my coming will be of no use.”
“Of course. I know how much I can do, and you must arrange the rest with her. I will take you to the little room up-stairs—we call it the octagon. That you know is just under auntie’s room. They will be at dinner—the captain and grannie. I will leave you there, and tell auntie that you want to see her.”
“But, Judy,—-”
“Don’t you want to see her, Mr Walton?”
“Yes, I do; more than you can think.”
“Then I will tell her so.”