“Ah, my Josiah told me so. Well, well, there’s troubles in every family, my dear; and so long as pa has got you he has not much cause for complaint.”
Claire looked up, trying to smile, but it was a sorry attempt; and soon after her guest rose, assuring her that she need not be uneasy about Mr Linnell.
“One word before I go, my dear, though, just as a secret. It isn’t that I’m curious, because I don’t care who it is marries, or whom they marry; but I’ve no girls of my own, and I do take an interest in you. Now, just in a whisper like. I am an old friend.”
“Yes, yes—indeed, you are. The only dear friend I have.”
“Then tell me now; put your lips close to my ear—it is to be Mr Linnell, is it not?”
“Never!” said Claire firmly.
“Oh, my! And I told you to whisper. I won’t believe it’s that horrible Major.”
“Mrs Barclay,” said Claire, putting her arms round her homely friend’s neck, “they say that every woman has her duty in life: mine is to watch over and help my father, and to be such protection as I can to my sister and brothers.”
“What, and not get married at all?” cried Mrs Barclay, in a tone of disappointment.
“And never be any man’s wife,” said Claire sadly. “Oh!”