“Don’t, don’t,” sobbed she. “You know I didn’t know any thing about it. Oh! Aunt Dagon, I never knew him so unjust and wicked as he is to-day. He treats me cruelly.” And the poor woman covered her red eyes again with her handkerchief, and rocked herself feebly. Mr. Newt went out, and slammed the door behind him.
CHAPTER XXXIX. — A FIELD-DAY.
“Now, Nancy, tell me about this thing,” said Mrs. Dagon, when the husband was gone.
But Nancy had nothing to tell.
“I don’t like his running away with her—that looks bad,” continued Mrs. Dagon. She pondered a few moments, and then said:
“I can tell you one thing, Nancy, which it wasn’t worth while to mention to Boniface, who seems to be nervous this morning—but I am sure Fanny proposed the running off. Alfred Dinks is too great a fool. He never would have thought of it, and he would never have dared to do it if he had.”
“Oh dear me!” responded Mrs. Newt.
“Pooh! it isn’t such a dreadful thing, if he is only rich enough,” said Aunt Dagon, in a consoling voice. “Every thing depends on that; and I haven’t much doubt of it. Alfred Dinks is a fool, my dear, but Fanny Newt is not; and Fanny Newt is not the girl to marry a fool, except for reasons. You may trust Fanny, Nancy. You may depend there was some foolish something with Hope Wayne, on the part of Alfred, and Fanny has cut the knot she was not sure of untying. Pooh! pooh! When you are as old as I am you won’t be distressed over these things. Fanny Newt is fully weaned. She wants an establishment, and she has got it. There are plenty of people who would have been glad to marry their daughters to Alfred Dinks. I can tell you there are some great advantages in having a fool for your husband. Don’t you see Fanny never would have been happy with a man she couldn’t manage. It’s quite right, my dear.”