“But Mr Hallam has a very good salary, I presume?”
“I tell T. it is too much, and old Mr Dixon and Sir Gordon might have taken a hundred off, and let us draw it. I don’t approve of the match at all.”
“Indeed, Mrs Trampleasure,” said Bayle, who felt hurt at hearing her speak like this.
“Yes; I’m Millicent’s aunt, and I think I ought to have been consulted more—but there! it is of no use to speak to my brother; and as to Millicent—she always did just as she liked with her mother! Poor Kitty is very weak!”
“I always find Mrs Luttrell very sweet and motherly.”
“Not so motherly as I am, Mr Bayle,” said the lady bluntly. “Ah, it’s a great stress on a woman—a large family—especially when the father takes things so coolly. I shouldn’t speak to every one like this, you know, but one can talk to one’s clergyman. Do you like Mr Hallam?”
“I find him very gentlemanly.”
“Ah, yes, he’s very gentlemanly. Well, I’m sure I hope they’ll be happy; but there’s always something in married life, and you do well to keep out of it; but, of course, you are so young yet.”
“Yes,” he said, with a grave, old-looking smile, “I am so young yet.”
“You don’t know what a family is, Mr Bayle. There’s always something; when it isn’t measles it’s scarlatina, and when it isn’t scarlatina it’s boots and shoes.”