“Insolent creature! Did she say that to you?”
“Indeed she did: and that her brother’s wife must be of a good family, with a fortune worthy of his own; and, naturally, of a county family.”
“A county family!” said Margaret, half laughing. “What matters county or city, when two people are watching over one another for life and death, and for hereafter?”
“With such people as Mrs Rowland,” said Hester, “marriage is a very superficial affair. If family, fortune, and equipage are but right, the rest may be left to Providence. Temper, mind, heart—. The worst of all, however, was her ending—or what was made her ending by our being interrupted.”
“Well! what was her finish?”
“She put her face almost under my bonnet, as she looked smiling at me, and said there was a young lady—she wished she could tell me all about it—the time would come when she might—there was a sweet girl, beloved by them all for many years, from her very childhood, whom they had hopes of receiving, at no very distant time, as Philip’s wife.”
“I do not believe it,” cried Margaret. After a pause, she added, “Do you believe it, Hester?”
“I am sure I do not know. I should not rate Mrs Rowland’s word very highly: but this would be such a prodigious falsehood! It is possible, however, that she may believe it without its being true. Or, such a woman might make the most, for the occasion, of a mere suspicion of her own.”
“I do not believe it is true,” repeated Margaret.
“At all events,” concluded Hester, “nothing that Mrs Rowland says is worth regarding. I was foolish to let myself be ruffled by her.”