Lee, whose tears were quick, wept passionately at this aspect; she had not thought of it before. When both were calmer, Mrs. Montgomery asked:
“Did you tell him that you had a great deal more money?”
Lee nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He was delighted, and said so as frankly as he says everything. He says we shall have three thousand pounds a year between us, and can get along very nicely; although the tug will come when we have to keep up Maundrell Abbey. His stepmother has made her will in his favour; but he says she has cut into her capital, and lately she has had to pay a tremendous amount for repairs on the Abbey. Lord Barnstaple certainly came high!”
“What a terrible marriage! Thank Heaven, there is no disgraceful commercial transaction where you and Tiny are concerned. Lord Maundrell seems clever enough for anything; why doesn’t he go into business and make a fortune?”
“He would never think of such a thing; he’s going to stand for Parliament at the next elections. His ideas are quite fixed, and he has his whole career mapped out.”
“Of course he’ll be Prime Minister. Of course he’s ambitious.”
“He’s not so ambitious as he is terribly serious. He thinks it’s his duty—his vocation. A lot of his ancestors have been statesmen, although they’ve generally been in the House of Lords. Cecil’s so glad he’s not going to be for ages. His father started out brilliantly, but had a great row with his party about something, and dropped out. Then, after his first wife’s death, he became rather dissipated. Cecil says he began life with high ideals. His uncle Basil was a distinguished Parliamentarian, and a Bill or a Law or something is called after him—I expect to know English politics backward by this time next year.”
“You will!—You will! You were made to be the wife of a great man, and he’ll be so proud of you!”