Edie read it through slowly. ‘Well, Ernest?’ she said, looking up from it into his face. ‘Do you think of taking this mastership?’
‘If I can get it,’ Ernest answered. ‘You see, I’m not a University Prizeman, and that may be a difficulty in the way; but otherwise I’m not unlikely to suit the requirements. Herbert knows something of the school—he’s been down there to examine; and Mrs. Greatrex had a sort of distant bowing acquaintance with my mother; so I hope their influence might help me into it.’
‘Well, Ernest?’ Edie cried again, feeling pretty certain in her own heart what was coming next, and reddening accordingly.
‘Well, Edie, in that case, would you care to marry at once, and try the experiment of beginning life with me upon two hundred a year? I know it’s very little, darling, for our wants and necessities, brought up as you and I have been: but Herr Max says, you know, it’s as much as any one family ought ever to spend upon its own gratifications; and at any rate I dare say you and I could manage to be very happy upon it, at least for the present. In any case it would be better than being a governess. Will you risk it, Edie?’
‘To me, Ernest,’ Edie answered with her unaffected simplicity, ‘it really seems quite a magnificent income. I don’t suppose any of our friends or neighbours in Calcombe spend nearly as much as two hundred a year upon their own families.’
‘Ah, yes, they do, darling. But that isn’t the only thing. Two hundred a year is a very different matter in quiet, old-world, little Calcombe and in a fashionable modern watering-place like Pilbury Regis. We shall have to live in lodgings, Edie, and live very quietly indeed; but even so I think it will be better than for you to go out and endure the humiliation of becoming a governess. Then I may understand that, if I can get this mastership, you’ll consent to be married, Edie, before the end of September?’
‘Oh, Ernest, that’s dreadfully soon!’
‘Yes, it is, darling; but you must have a very quiet wedding; and I can’t bear to leave you here now any longer without Harry to cheer and protect you. Shall we look upon it as settled?’
Edie blushed and looked down as she answered almost inaudibly, ‘As you think best, dear Ernest.’
So that very evening Ernest sent off an application to Pilbury Regis, together with such testimonials as he had by him, mentioning at the same time his intention to marry, and his recent engagement at Lord Exmoor’s. ‘I hope they won’t make a point about the University Prize, Edie,’ he said timidly; ‘but I rather think they don’t mean to insist upon it. I’m afraid it may be put in to some extent mainly as a bait to attract parents. Advertisements are often so very dishonest. At any rate, we can only try; and if I get it, I shall be able to call you my little wife in September.’