Tiny smiled.
“Papa sent for me into his study, and took my hand, and sat down by me. He was so gentle and kind. He said he wanted to see us both settled in a position which should give us the entrée into good society; for he said that, after all, he knew well enough people did not care for him, as he’d been a tradesman.”
Fin gave her head a jerk.
“He told me he had given way about—about—”
“Yes, yes—go on—I know,” said Tin.
“And that if he had not lost his position he should never have opposed the match; but as that was all over, he begged me to consent to receive Captain Vanleigh’s attentions. And, oh, Fin, he knew about the attentions to that poor girl, and told me of it.”
“Then some spiteful spy must have told him that,” cried Fin. “Oh, Aunt Matty.”
“He talked to me for an hour, Fin, so kindly all the time—said it would be for the best, and that it would make him happy and me too, he was sure; and at last I gave way. For oh, Fin, darling, I had no hope yesterday—nothing, I felt, to live for; and I thought that if I could make him satisfied, and dear ma happy, that was all I need care to do.”
“Then you were a wicked, weak little coward,” said Fin, “I’d have died sooner than given way. There, here they are again for us; and now I suppose we are to meet those people to-night.”
“Yes; papa said he should write to Captain Vanleigh.”